On Top of The World
by PeytonMelissa
Summary: In a city filled with people chasing their dreams, it's not long till Peyton and Brooke have it all. After moving to L.A, they soon become TV's hottest reality stars, where fame brings more than they could have ever imagined. AU: LP/Brulian.
1. It's Only Life

**On Top of The World**

**A/N: **This story is based on an idea I've thought of over some time. Most of the characters will be in it, and it's completely AU. Everything will be introduced and explained fully. I promise. If you have any questions let me know. The first chapter is inspired by _L.A Candy_. Enjoy!

**--**

Peyton Sawyer walked out of her bedroom door when she walked into someone. She looked up to meet the eyes of some strange sweaty, _half-naked_ guy. He smelled like bad cologne, armpits and beer.

"Who the hell are _you_?'' she yelled.

The guy backed up, and flinched at the level of her voice.

"I came home with Laura last night."

_Soooo._

This was one of Brooke's friends. Or more accurately, one of Brooke's here-today, gone-tomorrow hookups. Peyton's BFF (and, as of a week ago, now roommate), Brooke Davis was famous for giving guys the wrong name, or the wrong phone number, or both. So she wouldn't have to see them again. If it turned out the next morning she actually _liked_ the guy and wanted to see him again, she'd tell him she'd been too wasted the night before to tell him the right contact information – _so sorry!_

This rarely, almost never happened. Brooke wasn't really good with long term relationships. Or short term ones for that matter, she was more in it for the benefits.

"Well you should go back to her room then."

"Yeah, sorry."

First things first. Job. Peyton really needed a job. She applied for an internship at Sire Records not too long ago, but hasn't heard a word back yet. She thought she may as well go searching for something in the area. Keys. Her eyes scanned the living room, for where they were. Carefully stepping over a couple of cardboard boxes that neither her or Brooke had gotten to unpacking yet. All the boxes were labeled PEYTON SAWYER'S STUFF with black eye liner, since she couldn't find a Sharpie during her packing spree back home in Tree Hill. Brooke's were all carefully labeled in glitter. That's _Brooke_ for you.

Her and Brooke moved to L.A less than 7 days ago. Less than a week ago, and they still had a lot of settling to do. They lived in what Peyton's father would call "battlefield conditions" which is when you rip open boxes at the last minute when you realize you need something inside it. Every day she promised herself that she would finish unpacking. She never kept her word. Maybe she'd do it tomorrow. Or next month. Whenever. She'd eventually get it done when she had time.

Peyton's procrastination was something her new roomie was familiar with. There was very little the two best friends didn't know about each other. Peyton first met Brooke when they were 5. Back then when they were young every Tuesday, they would go to the mall where Brooke would try on all types of make-up and Peyton would check out the newest records. It became a sort of tradition, however they don't do it now. They've pretty much been best friends since then. Peyton's the kind of girl who wasn't afraid to say what's on her mind. She has curly blonde hair, and sparkling green eyes. Brooke on the other hand is the total opposite of Peyton. She has dark brown hair and hazel eyes. And even when she would wake up in the morning with complete bed head she was still drop dead gorgeous.

Brooke was adventurous, always taking risks, when Peyton was the same old Peyton. Always guarded, with a wall up to save her from getting her heart broken. Again.

Peyton had been in love once in her life, with Nathan Scott, her high school boyfriend. Nathan left her the year before, but not before he cheated on her with a little petite brunette girl named Haley. He ended it by saying he didn't want to ruin something that was once great. Which was code for 'If I keep cheating on you, you'll eventually find out." Which is what happened. It wasn't Haley's fault by far, she wasn't aware of anything, she was played too. Peyton was devastated, and hasn't been with anyone since. It's been especially hard for her to trust just about anyone. Now Nathan doesn't have a girlfriend, but he does have a job something Peyton is lacking.

Peyton may not have unpacked yet, but she already had tons of ideas for how to decorate their new home. With a little paint (she was thinking red, for her room, and pink for Brooke's), and some of her creativity (since she was an artist), she could paint a beautiful mural of the Italian riveara on the wall.

Getting distracted she walked back into her room and put on her favourite record. Wish by The Cure. The record started spinning as the beautiful words of Friday I'm in Love spilled into the air. Peyton constantly got inspired mostly from music. She lay down on her bed, pulled out her sketch book and started drawing. Brooke calls them "creepy nobody understands me" drawings. People Always Leave – But This Time It's Me. She titled the drawing as she drew a picture of her car full of moving boxes driving past a bunch of green traffic lights into the sunset.

Peyton ended up finding her car keys on her nightstand. Where she should've looked in the first place. She grabbed them and walked back through the living room to the kitchen (You had to walk through the kitchen to get outside). She stopped in her tracks after watching Brooke push whoever that guy is out the door.

"So I'll call you tonight okay?"

"Okay, bye." She shut the door after him.

"Morning." Brooke greeted Peyton cheery.

She glanced up to see Peyton standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Want some breakfast?"

"I was just about to run out, but sure. Do we even have anything?"

Brooke opened the fridge. One opened strawberry yogurt which looked like it was growing something, a carton of milk with yesterdays expiration date, and a pizza box containing two slices from the other night.

"Maybe we should go out." Brooke suggested.

"And make you leave, so you won't be around to answer the phone?" Brooke looked confused. " I wouldn't want to tear you away from your new boyfriend. Who I has the pleasure of meeting this morning. I dunno Brooke he's not up to your _usual_ standards."

"I met him the other night at that club two blocks down, and when he asked me out I thought it could be fun. Anyway he's gone now. Which as you know is exactly how I like my men."

"Aren't you tired of all that? You know, just sleeping around?"

"Not at all."

"One of these days, you're going to fall in love with some guy, and you're not going to know what to do with yourself."

Love….who needed love? As long as Brooke had her, friends, family, and the occasional hook-up, she didn't need love. She wasn't one for those real relationships – you know the kind that are supposed to last forever but never do – why go through the trouble? It's not like her parents were 'in love' either. Her mom Victoria just married her dad for the money. Where's the love in that? Besides, life was too short to be stuck with one guy and one guy only. There was an entire _universe_ full of them.


	2. This Always Happens To Me

**A/N: **I'm glad you guys are interested in this story it means a lot. Please read and review. Also, do you prefer short or long chapters? Also the man from the first chapter is _not_ Julian.

**--**

"It's Friday we should do something fun." Brooke insisted.

"I can't until tonight I need to look for a job."

"Honey, don't stress yourself, you're going to get that internship."

"You really think so?"

"Anyone would be crazy not to hire you."

Just then Peyton's cell phone rang as she ran to receive it. "Hello?"

_"Hello this is Sandra calling from Sire Records, to let you know that John would love to have you interning for him."_

"Really?"

_"You'll start first thing Monday morning at 7:50am sharp. Don't be late."_

"Thanks so much." Then line went dead. She actually got the internship. She never expected the day to come.

"What did I tell you?" Brooke questioned Peyton. "Lets go shopping to buy you something new to wear for your first day!"

--

"How about this store?"

"Can we just go into the CD Alley instead?"

"Fine."

"I've been waiting for this record _forever_!" Peyton states as she holds up the record to Brookes face. She reads it.

"Don't Look Away. Mia Catallano?"

"She's from Ohio you know?" Said a man as he walked up behind the register. "I'm Max."

"Hi Max, I'll take this please."

"Max, do you happen to know where the popular clubs are in own?" Brooke questioned.

"Well they change every six months, but right now I'd say TRIC."

"Have commitment issues with your clubs?"

"Well places are only popular for so long, and then the 'hot' place changes."

"And where's TRIC?"

"Not too far, off of Big Santa Monica Blvd."

"Thanks for all your help." They walked out of the store, when Brooke decided it would be _fun_ to go out for some mid-day drinks.

Brooke dragged Peyton into the nearest bar. "How about this place?" She asked.

"They're all the same to me."

Brooke grabbed Peyton's hand and pulled her inside the bar. Peyton sat on the bar stool next to Brooke

"Can I get you girls anything?" The cute bartender asked.

"Two cosmos please." Brooke smiled at him.

They didn't card here. But Brooke wasn't worried about that at, but she knew Peyton would. It's not like it would've been a problem. Brooke bought herself and Peyton fake when they were 16. However only Brooke got use of hers.

The bartender turned his attention to someone else.

"Another one for you Lucas?"

Brooke followed the bartenders gaze. Leaning up against the stone-cold bar was a young guy: tall, slender, dirty blonde hair, and bright blue eyes and just the right amount of sexy stubble. _Hmm_, forget the bartender, Brooke thought.

Brooke turned to the guy. "You always bring reading material to a bar?" She had to raise her voice to be heard over the group of loud girls behind them. Those type of girls were known as "woo girls", because all they do is drink, and throw their arms in the air and scream "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

The guy stared at her. "Well, how'd I know that I would meet someone as sweet and charming as you here?"

That caused Brooke to blush. "I'm Brooke."

"Lucas." He extended his hand, and Brooke shook it. To her right she heard someone cough. Then she remembered Peyton sitting in the chair beside her. "Oh Lucas, this is my friend, Peyton." She introduced her to Lucas.

She reached her hand across the bar and shook Lucas' hand. "In case you didn't notice me, I'm the less attractive one." She said with a little wave.

Brooke loved Peyton so much, but she was always tearing herself down. Thinking she's not good enough, or hot enough. That crap had to go! Everyone could see how gorgeous Peyton was, especially with her long smooth legs. Well everyone – except Peyton.

Lucas smiled. "I noticed you. And I think you're selling yourself short."

Now it was Peyton's time to blush. This guy was good. Brooke decided to let them be, as she went to another seat around the bar and started flirting with the bartender. Peyton hasn't been with anyone since Nathan, and for the first time she seemed interested in a guy.

"So you work around here?" She asked when she noticed Lucas shove what looked like a manuscript into his pocket. "Starving actor?"

Lucas chuckled. "Close. More like starving author. I'm trying to get my first novel published."

That's why he had a way with words. He was a writer, Peyton thought. Her last boyfriend Nathan was the star player on their varsity basketball team. Brooke was the head cheerleader, but Peyton was on the squad. Peyton hated everything about cheerleading. The only reason she did it was because her mom was a cheerleader. Her mom who's now dead. She died when Peyton was 7 years old. She was late picking Peyton up from school and ran a red light. Just one red light, and it all ended for her. Brooke was by Peyton's side the whole way through it. Brooke knew Anna. She cried with Peyton, and did whatever she could to help Peyton through her loss.

"I'm Sharon." Brooke said to the cute bartender.

"I'm Owen, but I know your names not Sharon I overheard you talking before." Busted. Oh well.

"Fine you caught me." Brooke raised her hands in defeat. "Well I've got to head back over to my friend, but you can call me if you want."

"Nawh, you're _too _young for me. Maybe when you grow up." No one ever stood up to her like that. She kind of liked it.

A brunette-haired girl entered the bar walking right towards them. The girl was medium sized, curvy, and pretty. All the girls in L.A. were pretty. She wore a small black halter top, and skinny jeans. Her gaze was fixed on…. _Them_. Peyton, Lucas and Brooke. More specifically Lucas. He didn't see her coming because of the intimate conversation he was in engaged in with Peyton.

"Hey you," the girl said touching Lucas' shoulder.

Lucas glanced up sharply. "Oh! Hey!"

He kissed the girl on the cheek. She leaned away then went in for another kiss – on the lips. Lucas broke away from the kiss, looking flustered.

"Hey, guys! Um this is –"

"Lindsay." She smiled at Peyton. Giving her a look saying _go_ to hell. He's _mine._ Stay_ away._

Brooke moved closer to Peyton's side to ensure her everything would be okay. This is why Peyton never opened up because she would be crushed the next second. He mood changed instantly. She went from so happy to so unhappy so quickly. She hit it well. She always did, but Brooke was the only one who could ever see through her.

"I'm Brooke, and this is Peyton." She introduced themselves politely. Then the tables turned. "Well I'd love to stay and chat, but I don't want to stay and chat." Brooke turned on her heels and headed towards the door.

"I'm gonna go." Peyton said, slightly embarrassed of Brooke's outburst.

"I'll be seeing you." Lucas said to Peyton before she turned to follow Brooke's lead.

Once outside Peyton demanded to know what all that was about. "Why'd you do that?"

"Do you really want to hang out with Lucas and his girlfriend? I was just trying to save you."

"How do you know she's his girlfriend? Maybe their _just_ friends. Brooke looked at her sympathetically. "Alright _fine_ maybe she _is_ his girlfriend."

"Come on L.A's a big place we'll find you a boy." But maybe Peyton didn't want someone else. What if she wanted what was right in front of her, even if she couldn't have it? "Let's try another bar. _This_ way."


	3. Chance of a Lifetime

**A/N: **So in the first chapter I mentioned that Nathan cheated on Peyton with a girl named Haley. So I ran into a small problem in this chapter. So I love Lucas and Haley's friendship but the way my story is, it doesn't really exist, so I'm going to try and find a way to possibly throw it in later, but for now I hope you enjoy my next chapter.

**--**

Peyton's first day at the job was not what she expected. First she was 10 minutes late, because her dad called her in the morning, and she just couldn't hang up on him, and then she found out instead of listening in on all the important meetings, she was just to hand out mail, and coffee. _Fun!_

Maybe it would get better. No pain, no gain.

--

"Is this the right place?" Brooke asked Peyton as she pulled up her Voltzwagon beatle to the curb by a vine-covered building.

"Yup. TRIC. Considering the line I'd say so."

"It's kind of a zoo. I love it." Brooke chirped.

"That it is. Lets get in line this will take forever." Peyton said.

The line went down two blocks, and around the corner of some gritty apartment building.

"I an _not_ waiting in some lame line to get in," Peyton demanded. "Come on let's get out of here."

"But Peyton." Brooke whined. "We already waited so long, and took the time to get here."

"It's a Monday night–how crowded could it be in there?"

Brooke rolled her eyes.

Five more minutes past. Then ten. Then thirty.

"This is getting ridiculous." Peyton stated.

"Wait, don't you work for a record label now?" Brooke questioned.

"Yeah." Where was Brooke going with this?

"Don't you have some 'in' then? This is a club." Brooke added.

"Well I'll try." Peyton said.

The two girls walked out of line and to the front where the security guard was. Peyton held up her 'Sire Records' card. "I'm with the label." She added.

The security guard gave her and Brooke a glance then lifted up the vinyl cord and waved them in.

"Who are they?" Someone yelled from the line.

"Seriously!" Someone else piped in.

Brooke and Peyton walked into a large courtyard enclosed with vine covered stone walls. There was a huge illuminated water fountain in the center with trees surrounding it. Booths made up of low glass-top tables with black leather sofas filled the place. It was easily the coolest club Brooke had ever been to.

Most of the girls inside were wearing short dresses and high heels. The guys sported dress shirts and jeans. It occurred to Peyton (not that she cared) that she was probably way underdressed in her ripped jeans and purple racer-back tank.

Brooke felt like this is a place where she belonged. It was cool being in an almost impossible-to-get-into L.A club. She probably could've gotten her and Peyton in an easier way, but Peyton hated it when she did that so she went with the old fashion way; waiting.

Brooke spotted a cute brunette boy standing by the bar alone. He wasn't a boy, he was a man. So hot!

"Can we get a drink?" Brooke said to Peyton.

"_What_?" Peyton yelled?

"_Bar!_" Brooke yelled back. She pointed to the main room.

"Can I get Tequila and Grenadine please? Brooke asked.

"Oh no, not the Brooke Davis!" Peyton laughed.

"What it's delicious."

"It's disgusting." Peyton argued back. "Can I get a coke and rum please?"

The bartender didn't say a word about IDs. _Yes! _He poured their drinks, and Brooke raised her shot glass in the air. "To us, and our new lives."

"To us!" Peyton echoed, raising her glass too. She looked a little overwhelmed. "This place is, um, pretty amazing. I wonder which band's going to play. I'm totally underdressed," Peyton moaned before taking a sip of her coke and rum.

"Shut up! You look great!."

"Hardly!" Peyton grumbled, "Everyone here looks like a model!"

"Everyone here looks like a slut." Brooke reassured her. "Besides the only way to belong is to not give a shit whether you belong or not."

Right at that moment someone bumped into Brooke. She turned around to glare at the person … and was astonished to find herself eye-to-eye with the man she was eyeing earlier.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay."

"I'm Nick."

There was something different about this guy. Just like with Lucas, Brooke thought she'd use her real name. Maybe she'd turn a new leaf. Maybe she wouldn't lie to boys anymore like she used to.

"And you are?" Nick questioned.

"Oh sorry, I'm Brooke. Nice to meet you."

"You too. You want to go out sometime?" He asked.

"Sure." Brooke smiled sweetly.

"I'll leave you my number."

"Okay thanks." Brooke replied. He wrote his number on a napkin and placed it into her back pocket, then walked over to a group of guys. His friends. His boy group (and no not a boy band or anything like that).

"Are you having fun yet?" Brooke asked Peyton.

Peyton gave Brooke a small glare.

"I'll take that as a no." Brooke said to herself.

--

Julian Baker sat at a corner booth–the best one in the room. He was busy looking through the room for something, or someone to catch his eye. However all he saw was a room full of poseurs. Still, he felt hopeful. Maybe this is the night. Maybe this was the night he'd get lucky.

"How about that one?" said Mark the man in the navy suit to his right.

"Next to the Miley wannabe?" said the gray suit to his left. "She's pretty hot."

"She's kind of _too_ hot for my taste; she's trying too hard." Said the only woman at the table.

Julian looked at the subject in question: size zero, glossy platinum hair down to her ass, black dress glued onto her Pilates–toned body. Why was it when girls moved to Hollywood, they all eventually morphed into the same stereotype? Not that he wasn't fond of that stereotype. It had its uses. But she was a little _too_ obvious. Besides, he already had a size 0 with platinum hair and a Pilates–toned body–a better one.

He turned to his companions and they knew he wasn't interested.

The four of them continued analyzing more girls based on their weight, hair colour, and cup size. But soon Julian started to tune them all out.

While the DJ was changing songs, he spotted two girls trying to squeeze into the bar. Tall, gorgeous blonde–not the run-of-the-mill Hollywood blonde, but edgier, tougher, different. She was _exactly_ what he had been looking for. And she came with a shorter, strikingly beautiful brunette friend, who had a slighty exotic but not _too_ exotic edge. The two pretended to seem like they were having a good time, but they were totally lost. Well the blonde one was. The brunette seemed like she _could_ belong.

They were perfect.

He rose from the table. "I'll be right back." He said in the general direction of the table. He didn't wait for their response as he strode to the bar. He sat next to the brunette and Julian leaned in close and said, "Hi, Are you enjoying yourselves?"

The blonde glanced over her shoulder and fixed him with an icy stare. God, her eyes were amazing: intense, green, like emeralds. Before she could say anything, the brunette grinned at him and said, "Yeah. It's out first time here."

Julian nodded. The brunette was exactly as he wanted. _Perfect!_

"Do you two live in L.A?" he asked them.

"We do!" said the brunette.

"So have the two of you every thought about getting into the entertainment industry? Or maybe you're in the business already–"

The blonde cut in with "We're not really interested in guys who are technically old enough to father us."

"You think I'm that old, huh?" Julian chuckled. "I'm only 20, and I'm not looking to hit on you. I promise. I'm a producer. I'm looking for girls to cast in a new TV show I'm putting together. It's a reality show, so no acting experience is needed.

"_The Hills?_" Brooke asked. She did watch a lot of reality TV.

"Something exactly like that, but different. It would also be totally PG. You girls interested?"

The brunette leaned forward and looked at him curiously. Her eyes were big, and expressive. The cameras were going to love them, he thought. "You're a TV producer? Seriously?" she asked.

"Yes." He replied. "You girls are exactly what I'm looking for. Why don't you come for an interview, and we can talk some more about it?"

"What do we look like we're totally clueless?" the blonde demanded. " We're really not interested in your low-budget project or whatever you're doing.

Julian chuckled. The blonde was feisty. Man Julian loved feisty, but then again he never met any girl who didn't soften at the words _producer, casting,_ and _interview_. "Listen carefully to me," he said after a moment. "Thousands of girls like you come to L.A. for an opportunity like this, and it never happens. Except it's happening right now, to you. You can't fool me. You waited for hours in a line just to get in here. I'm offering you a chance to fit in at hundreds of places like this. Places where people would kill to be. Isn't that why you moved to this city? To take a chance? Nobody comes to L.A to be a nobody."

Now the blonde was staring at him, a little stunned. So was the brunette. Good, good. It was working. The brunette he hadn't been too worried about. She was an open book. It was the blonde he had to win over.

He reached his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a business card, and placed it on the bar in front of them. "In case you get tired of waiting he lines." He said, locking eyes with the blonde.

And then he turned and made his exit.

--

It was 6:30 on a Tuesday night, Peyton pulled out of Sire Records parking lot, and onto the main streets of L.A.

Her day hadn't been that bad today. She placed the mail in the right places, and got coffee for John and everyone else who wanted. It wasn't her thoughts on what she'd be doing, but everyone starts somewhere. Right?

Peyton made a right onto Sunset Blvd. and adjusted her sunglasses. Peyton drove a few blocks, and realized she had no idea where she was. She reminded herself that she _needed_ to buy a GPS system. She slowed down to stop at a stop sign, and pulled her phone out of her purse and dialed Brooke's number.

"Pick up Brookie. Come on." Peyton said to herself as she heard the phone connect and start ringing.

As Peyton waited for Brooke to pick up, a guy crossed in front of her. He looked familiar. Very familiar. Peyton took off her shades to get a closer look. It couldn't be…

"Lucas?" Peyton said loudly.

"Peyton, are you lost _again_?" Brooke's voice demanded. Peyton forgot that she had her phone pressed to her ear. And that she called Brooke.

"Call you back, Brooke," she said quickly as she dropped the phone into her purse, thinking about luck or fate or whatever had brought her here to this random intersection.

It couldn't be. The guy kept walking. Peyton stuck her head out the window. "Lucas!" she yelled at him. Could it?

He stopped in the middle of the street and turned around. It was definitely Lucas. He looked at her for a second before recognition. "Hey! Peyton!" he called out. He looked presently surprised to see her.

"What are you doing here?" Peyton shouted.

"Just on my way back from the publishers office!" Lucas shouted back. " I think they totally hate my book!"

The car behind Peyton honked. "You hungry?" she blurted out, before she had the time to think_. Why the hell did she do that?_

Lucas smiled and nodded, "Go left! I'll meet you around the corner!"

Peyton smiled back. But even as she was smiling, her mind was spinning and racing, kin of like her heart. _Peyton, what are you doing? He has a girlfriend. Don't be that kind of girl!_

"So I gave them my manuscript, and they read over the first few pages with me there and the looks on their faces made me think like they just didn't like it, or weren't going to. And I really want them to enjoy it you know, it's what I've worked my whole life for you know?" Lucas said.

"Definitely," Peyton said, nodding. She noticed that Lucas' eyes looked more sky blue than light blue. Or was it the lighting? Why had she even noticed something like this?

After Peyton parked her Comet and given Lucas a super-casual hug (she hadn't noticed the other night that he actually smelled really good. A mix of cologne, and something she couldn't describe, but it sure was yummy), he had taken her across the street Casa Cabo Blanca, which he said was one of his favourite hangouts in L.A. It was really loud, colourful place, with the walls painted bright colours. It wasn't Peytons taste she was more into darker coloured places, but to her disbelief, she like it. Or was it because she was there with Lucas?

"But we'll see if they'll publish my novel, otherwise I'll try some other ones out." Lucas went on.

"No,no. You have to think that you _will_ get you story published." Peyton told him. "I don't believe in it, but Brooke does. She does it all the time, and her dreams have been coming true, so maybe I should re-think it." Peyton grinned.

Lucas grinned too. "It's cool how close you guys are. How long have you known each other?"

"We've been friends forever. We grew up together in North Carolina —"

"You're from North Carolina? Me too! Where from?" Lucas question.

"Tree Hill. Where are you from?"

"Wilmington. That's only like two hours away! However I tried to keep my distance from Tree Hill"

"Why?" Peyton wondered.

"My brother lived there. Well my half brother. It's a long story, but we have the same dad and different moms." Started Lucas.

This all seemed a bit too familiar. She'd heard this story before. "What did you say your last name was?"

"Scott, why?"

There it was. Scott. Nathan's Scott half brother. She's heard about this guy through Nathan, but the way he described him was totally off. "I know your brother." It was hard for her to say due to 'their past' but she said it.

"What?"

"Nathan, right?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I kind of dated him in high school."

"Okay, small world."

"Yeah, well it didn't really work out." Why was she telling so much to Lucas? And how come she finally liked someone since Nathan and it happened to be his brother. Well they weren't really friends, so did that make it okay?

"Well anyway, I grew up with a best friend too. Jake. He and I are different in ways, but not in all. We both played basketball on our high school varsity team, and we get along great. He moved away to Savannah while we were in our senior year, but we kept in touch and now we live together here in L.A." Lucas said.

"That's really great.

--

"My mom and dad got married in high school and were inseperable. They hated being apart." said Peyton.

Lucas smiled. "That's sweet. That's what I want someday. You know, to be married forever to someone I'm madly in love with."

"Yeah it's so rare these days," Peyton says softly, wondering how this conversation turned to be about marriage.

She took a long sip of her sprite and vodka, keeping her eyes focused on the glass so she wouldn't do something dumb, like lean over and start making out with Lucas right then and there. He was such a great guy. She really hadn't met anyone she had a connection with since … well Nathan, and in a way not even him, because although he was insanely hot, and awesome, she had always sensed distance with him. True, he was the first (and so far only) guy who told her he loved her, but he also broke her heart. Thank goodness she held out on having sex. She was still a virgin. He wasn't. He wasn't by far, and for some reason they were together for a long time. But who knows how long he was with Haley for at the same time? Whatever he wasn't getting from Peyton, he just got from someone else.

"Peyton? You still there?" Lucas' voice broke into her thoughts.

Peyton glanced up from her drink. Lucas' blue eyes staring into hers.

"Still here." Peyton said quickly. "I, um, just remembered I forgot to eat breakfast this morning. And lunch. It was kind of a hectic day."

"What? You're kidding. Hey. Lena!" Lucas raised his voice and signaled to the waitress. "Can you bring us some chips and salsa? And a couple of menus?

"I'm fine," Peyton insisted, although her stomach _did_ feel funny, and the vodka was making her head kind of spinny.

"No, you're not fine, crazy. You have to eat something now, before you wither away into one of those celery-sticks-and-bottled-water girls, which you're totally not,"

"I'm not that skinny." Peyton fought back.

"I meant that as a compliment. Lucas said firmly. "What do you feel like having?"

"Hmm. I dunno. What's good? I'll try anything!" Peyton said. _God, that sounded slutty,_ she thought.

At that moment Peyton remembered her hair was a total mess. Blonde curls flying everywhere. She must have looked so tired. She reached up and began trying to smooth down the loose strands. She licked her lips and glanced around, wondering where the ladies room might be.

Lucas watched her in amusement. "You look fine," he said, as if knowing exactly what was going through her mind.

"Thanks." Peyton said, blushing again. Why did Lucas make her feel this way? What was she? Ten?

"So what kept you so busy today? You start your new job?"

"Day two." She said, and then regaled him with tales from her first days at her first real job.

Lucas smiled sympathetically. "Listen," he said when she had finished. "Don't stress. It's early. I'm sure you'll be awesome at this new job of yours. And if for some reason it doesn't work out, then it wasn't meant to be, and you'll just have to be awesome at something else." He reassured her.

"Well I don't know about that, but thanks." said Peyton. She was about to tell Lucas about their night before with Julian when someone's phone beeped. It beeped again.

"Um. Peyton? I think that's you." Lucas pointed out to Peyton.

"What? Oh!" she said.

Peyton glanced down at the screen. It was a text from Brooke.

**Hello? Did U forget about me or something?** It said.

"It's Brooke." Peyton told Lucas. She typed: **No. I'm some restaurant w/ Lucas.**

**WHAT?!?!? Tell me all the deets! **Brooke's reply said.

"How is she?" Lucas asked.

_Probably freaking out and wondering what the hell I'm doing with you, _Peyton thought. "She's fine."

**Lindsay there? **Brooke asked.

Oh, right. Lindsay. Peyton had completely forgotten about her for a few minutes. On the other hand, Lucas hadn't brought up her name at all. Not once. What did that mean? That Lindsay wasn't his girlfriend after all?

**No**, she typed.

**Good luck, and be careful,** Brooke responded a few minutes later.

"What's she saying?" he asked, leaning forward and playfully pretending to sneak a peek at her phone. Peyton glanced up and smiled uncertainly at Lucas, pulling her phone closer to her. She didn't want him seeing the messages. She knew Brooke was right. She wished she could ask him about Lindsay–girlfriend or not? He wouldn't have taken her to one of his favourite restaurants if he had a girlfriend right? He'd have said "Nice running into you. It's good to see you." and kept walking. Then again, maybe he actually had no interest in her at all, aside from being "just friends." Or maybe he was just hungry. She had no idea. None at all.

"Not much." And then, because what did she have to lose really she added, "Is Lindsay your girlfriend?" There she said it.


	4. What Just Happened?

**A/N: **It's been a couple days, but hopefully it's worth it, because I wrote a pretty longish chapter for you all. So I'm going to change the story from Peyton & Brooke to Peyton & Lucas either now or soon, because well you all know why. Well the story's starting to get deeper in now, so expect drama, love, friendship, heartbreak, excitement, terrorizing moments etc. Whatever you can imagine, I can too. Just remember that. ;)

**--**

There was a pause. "Lindsay," Lucas said. "Hmm, how do I answer that? It's kind of complicated."

"Complicated?" Peyton asked as she picked up her drink so he couldn't see the expression covering her face.

"Yeah, well . . . we've been hanging out for while. It's an on-again, off-again thing."

_On-again, off-again? Really?_ Peyton wondered if that's how Lindsay saw things. Either way, he and Lindsay definitely appeared on-again the other day.

"Oh well, Brooke thought she was your girlfriend," Peyton blurted out. _Way to be juvenile, Peyton._

"Why would Brooke think that?"

_Because you and Lindsay were practically making out._ She wanted to point out. "She's not wrong," Peyton said instead.

"But she's also not right," Lucas laughed, a little uncomfortably, Peyton thought.

They only talked for a little longer, before they finished their meals and headed on their separate ways. She had that interview in the morning–the one for that reality TV show. She wasn't going to do it, she didn't want to do it, but Brooke talked her into it. What was the chance they'd be chosen anyway? Right?

When Peyton slipped into bed that night she had a hard time falling asleep. Her mind churned with thoughts of how her interview would go tomorrow. If they asked _this_ would she answer with _this_ or _this?_ And soon her thoughts drifted back to Lucas–she was glad that asking about Lindsay hadn't soured the conversation, but had to admit she was disappointed by his answer.

It was around 2 a.m., when she finally felt her eyelids growing heavy, that she realized she really wanted to do well at the interview tomorrow. She actually _wanted_ to be on Julian Baker's new show. What better way to push the boundaries of her small, safe, perfectly pleasant life than to put it on TV, for thousands–or millions?–of people to see?

--

Peyton glanced around the waiting room and wondered how much longer it would be. It was so quiet, she could hear the ticking of the clock on the otherwise bare, white wall as it hit 6:45 a.m. She wondered what kinds of things they would ask her. _Again._ And how long would this interview take? She didn't have anywhere to be, but she was kind of tired from her lack of sleep last night. Also, if they were trying to make a savvy show about L.A., why would they be interested in someone like her? She knew _nothing_ about L.A.

She was a little troubled by the fact that the waiting room was so–_ordinary_. Shouldn't a TV producers, waiting room be chic? With lots of glass chrome and expensive art? Like John Knight's office at Sire Records. His was covered with albums that he's produced. So shouldn't Julian's place be covered with like movies he's directed, or produced. She leaned over to Brooke, who was sitting next to her on the one of the uncomfortable beige chairs. "His assistant said six thirty, right?" she whispered.

"Relax. When did you start caring about punctuality? You're like half an hour late for everything." Brooke reminded her.

"I am not! I'm just really nervous. I'm a little scared to go in there," Peyton admitted. "It kind of reminds me of when Ellie wanted to interview me to get to know me. It's a bittersweet moment."

"Sweetie it'll be okay. Don't think about that. Besides she can be so proud of us when we're on this show. Be excited about this!"

"Hey. _You're_ the one who talked _me _into coming here. You were the one who was all excited about meeting with that guy. Me not so much." Peyton said.

_That guy._ Brooke reached into her pocket and pulled out the business card he had given them at TRIC, and fingered it with her hands. "Julian Baker, producer," it read. She and Peyton has Googled his name right when they got home that night. He hadn't been lying. He was_ the_ Julian Baker, movie producer; tons of his movies went to Sundance. He was kind of a big deal, but he's never done television shows. Peyton read about some of Julian's latest movies had flopped. Was this show going to be the same? Or would it be his comeback?

Peyton had insisted that Brooke did a Google Image search to make sure the person they'd met wasn't just _pretending_ to be Julian Baker using fake business cards from Staples. He wasn't. Julian Baker–_the_ Julian Baker–had really truly come up to them and asked them to be in his new show. It was so surreal, things like that didn't just happen. To anyone! Peyton had never really loved, being the center of attention, it was more Brooke's thing. And with Brooke as her best friend, she never had that problem.

A door opened, and a girl dressed in jeans and a blue v-neck. "Peyton?""

Peyton glanced up at her.

"They'll see you first."

She rose to her feet and gave Brooke a quick, nervous squeeze on the arm. "Wish me luck."

"You'll be fine Peyt, just don't be a bitch," Brooke reassured her. Kind of.

Peyton turned to the girl, "Who's 'they'? I thought we were just going to talk to Julian."

"Sorry, they don't really tell me anything," the girl apologized.

Peyton waved to Brooke, then followed the girl down a hallway. " Have you been working here long?" she asked, trying to distract herself from her own thoughts with polite conversation.

"Like three weeks," the girl said.

"So is this, like, the main office?"

"No, this is one of the production spaces they rent." The girl stopped in front of another door and indicated for Peyton to go in. "Right in here."

"Thanks!"

Peyton entered, barely noticing the door close behind her, and found herself in an almost clausterphobically small room. It has the same dingy white walls and faded blue carpet as the waiting room. The only furniture was a single gray folding chair lined up neatly against one of the walls.

About five feet in front of the chair was a large camera on a tripod and a tall, industrial–looking light. Peyton frowned at the equipment. What was it doing here? She was not good with cameras. Not since she got attacked by her high school stalker. How did Brooke talk her into this? Peyton did not see this going well. _At all._ She turned to ask the girl, but she was already gone.

The door opened again, and a heavyset guy bustled in carrying a small black pack of some sort. The pack had an On/Off switch and a green light on top and a long black wire that ended at a tiny round ball extended from the bottom of it.

"Okay if I put this on you?" the guy asked Peyton.

"What is it?"

The guy looked amused. "Microphone."

"Oh . . . I guess so. Sure."

"Great. Have a seat."

Peyton sat down in the folding chair, which felt cold and hard against her bare legs. Brooke _made_ Peyton wear shorts today.

The guy handed her the wire and a piece of tape. "Run this wire down your shirt for me, okay?" he instructed. "And tape the mike to yourself, like right about here." He pointed to his chest, just above where her two bra cups would meet.

"Uh . . . okay."

The tiny round mike felt weird against her chest. When she did podcast she just talked into a microphone. She didn't have it attached to her in any weird way, in a weird place.

Was it going to pick up the sound of her heart beating a million miles a minute? She was feeling nervous already. The camera and impossibly the small space where she couldn't escape from, wasn't helping. _Relax,_ she told herself.

The guy put on a headset and picked up a pack of equipment. He asked her to count to ten and began twisting knobs and flipping switches. Then the door opened again, and two men and a woman entered. One of the guys didn't even look at her as he went to the camera and started pressing various buttons. The other two smiled pleasantly at Peyton and took their positions on either side of the camera guy. They were both carrying notebooks and pens.

"Hi, Peyton," the woman said. She looked like she was in her mid-thirties. He thin brown hair hung just below her shoulders. She was wearing a blue striped button–down shirt over faded jeans and wore a silver bow headband in her hair. "I'm Dana, I'm one of the producers of the pilot. And this is Mitchell. He'll be helping out with casting."

Mitchell had short, messy brunette hair, and wide brown eyes, and was probably closer to Peyton's age than Dana's. He wore a navy T-shirt and cords. He didn't look like a Mitch.

Peyton raised one hand and smiled awkwardly. "Hey. It's nice to meet you."

"Were just going to ask you a few questions, if that's okay with you." Dana went on. The camera guy flicked a switch, and Peyton squinted and flinched as a bright white glare flooded the room. "Is that light bothering your eyes?"

"No, it's fine," Peyton said quickly, afraid to complain about anything or ask any question. The light felt hot against her skin.

"Great," Dana said. "So. You just moved to L.A. a couple weeks ago right? Do you work or go to school here?"

"I have an internship with John Knight at Sire Records. Peyton replied. "He'd the labels producer." Oh God, why was she still talking? Of course these people knew who he was!

"Looooooove his stuff," Mitch said, nodding.

"Have you made any new friends in L.A.?" Dana asked next.

Lucas immediately came to mind. That was about it. "I've met a couple of people," Peyton hedged. "And my roommate, Brooke, is my best friend from when we were like seven. I'm excited to meet more people," Peyton admitted. "Everyone here seems so interesting."

Dana and Mitchell scribbled in their notebooks. Peyton shifted in her chair, trying to find a comfortable position. He foot began to twitch. _Wow . . . Sounding a little desperate, Peyton? It's not like you actually want this. And "Interesting"? You couldn't have come up with something more interesting than 'interesting'? Way to show off that extensive vocabulary._

The camera light was intense and bright, and it made it difficult to see Dana's and Mitch's faces. Peyton struggled to read their faces. She wished she knew what they were writing–and thinking. She reached up and twisted one of her curls, as Dana and Mitch continued to fire more questions at her: Where did she grow up? What was her family like? Where did she go to high school? Did she plan on going to college? What were her career goals? Did she have a boyfriend?

Peyton answered all the questions the best she could. _(Tree Hill. What I have left of my family is amazing. Tree Hill High. I want to work for a couple years, get some real-life experience, then possibly go to college. Nope, no boyfriend)._ The questions went on and on like that. Peyton felt as though they were trying to get her life story–the SparkNotes version, anyway–and she couldn't imagine why. However her life had been pretty eventful if that's how you'd like to categorize it. And in one way that's why she moved to L.A. to get away from it all. _People Always Leave. But this time it's me._ That was all of Peyton's thoughts when she got on that plane to L.A.

At one point there was a brief pause as Dana and Mitch wrote in their notebooks. (What were they writing?) The light was hot, and Peyton could feel herself starting to sweat.

"Have you been going out in L.A. since you moved here?" Dana asked her.

"A few times. I'm still trying to figure out fun places to go. Apparently, you guys have commitment issues with your clubs here," Peyton said.

The both laughed at her joke. It sounded polite.

"You've noticed, huh?" Dana piped in.

"Drink of choice?" Mitch asked cutely, as if he were quizzing her for _Cosmopolitan_.

"For when you're legal, of course," Dana added, giving Mitchell a cryptic look.

"Of course," Peyton replied. Considering she'd met Julian at a bar, she figured Dana's remark was a joke or something she had to say. "I'm partial to vodka . . . anything."

"My kind of girl." Mitch winked at her.

Peyton smiled. She liked him. He was a little chattier than Dana. She felt more comfortable talking to him. Like she was having a conversation, rather than being interviewed. " So have you met any hot guys since you've been here?" Mitch leaned in towards her a little.

"Not really . . . I met one guy, but I think he has a girlfriend. Maybe." Ugh, saying that out loud made Peyton realize how lame it was to be hanging all over someone who had a girl. "I broke up with my boyfriend not too long ago and I haven't really been dating."

"Awww, I'm sorry." Mitch made a cute little pout, then perked up. "But, you know, nothing cures heartbreak like a new cute boy," he said in an almost sing songy voice.

"Yeah . . . that or the vodka anything." Peyton shrugged.

They laughed again–and this time it didn't feel just polite.

"Okay, so we're going to read off a list of words," Dana said, all business again. "You say the first thing that comes to your mind. It's just for fun so don't think about it. Say whatever pops into your head."

"Okay." Peyton straightened up a little.

"One-night stands," Dana said, staring.

"Umm . . . trashy," Peyton replied, scrunching her nose a little.

"Shoes."

"Converse."

Mitch nodded in agreement.

"Los Angeles."

"Chances."

"Friendship."

"Long-lasting."

"Love."

"Hard."

Dana finished writing something in her notebook, then looked up at Peyton. "And lastly . . . why did you move to L.A.? Besides hoping to get that internship?"

Peyton thought for a moment. "For change. A new start, and to get away from everything bad that happened back where I lived."

Dana and Mitch looked at each other, and Dana nodded.

"Okay, then, we're all done," Dana said. "We'll be in touch, okay?"

"It's over?" Peyton said, surprised.

"It's over," Mitch told her. "You're free to go. You did great!"

"I did?" Peyton felt like she'd only just gotten into the swing of things. Could she really have been great?

She got up, said her thank-yous and good-byes (she went to shake Mitch's hand, because it seemed like the right thing to do, and instead shared an awkward half-handshake, half-hug with him; Dana was fine with a brief but firm handshake), and headed back in the direction of the waiting room. In the hallway, she passed Brooke and the girl who called her in orginially. _How'd it go?_ Brooke mouthed to her. _I don't know,_ Peyton mouthed back. She wished she had time to give Brooke a quick lowdown before she walked into her interview. Although, knowing Brooke she would do just fine. Peyton had never met anyone who didn't love Brooke and her personality.

--

Peyton and Brooke got the phone call on a Saturday, while Brooke was trying on clothes, and Peyton was there to tell Brooke if it looked good. _Or bad._

Anyway they had been talking about Lucas, and Brooke hadn't been telling Peyton what she wanted to hear; with the whole Lindsay, girlfriend thing.

"I like the shirt from what you first tried on, and the jeans from the outfit you're wearing now." Peyton said. "Maybe you could mix them together for a perfect outfit." She suggested.

"How about no!" Brooke responded. She was amused at the way Peyton would keep changing the subject, and how this was the most she ever examined her clothing ever!

"I asked Lucas to meet us for drinks tonight." Peyton blurted out. She looked as if she were about to say something else, but Brooke interrupted.

"Seriously? Peyton we'll be at a place _full_ of guys. Why would you invite one? And one with a girlfriend for that matter?

Brooke could tell when Peyton was in denial about a guy, which happened more often than not. In high school before Nathan, Peyton fell in love for more than a few boys with "complications." Aka boys with ex-girlfriends who refused to stay ex-girlfriends. It was a kind of recurring thing for Peyton. Although who was Brooke to talk, since she wasn't exactly an expert on relationships?

"He said he couldn't anyway. He was busy all weekend with something he can't get out of," Peyton said adding a small pout.

"Yeah . . . a relationship," Brooke reminded her,

"I told you. She's not really his girlfriend. They have this on-again, off-again thing. It's complicated.

"How complicated could it be? She's into him. He's into exploring his options."

"Maybe." Peyton had shrugged and wandered back out into the store.

_Poor Peyton,_ Brooke thought. _She needs another boy to distract her from this one–fast. _

Brooke walked after Peyton into the main store "Look sweetie, I just don't want you to get hurt. You know I'm just looking out for you right?"

"I know, I know, and it means a lot to me. Really."

Brooke was going to say something else when she heard a muffled sound of a cell phone. She knew it wasn't hers, because well she left hers in the car.

"Peyton? I think that's yours," Brooke noted.

"Huh? Oh!" Peyton fished through her purse looking for it, spilling a couple of items on the floor in the process: a balled-up receipt, a couple business cards, a tampon. "Crap!"

She bent down to retrieve them as she found her cell and shoved it against her ear. "Hello?" she said sounding a little flustered.

Nearby, a little boy who was in the same shop with his mother watched with interest as the tampon rolled down the aisle of clothing Peyton was in and toward him. "Oh, jeez," Brooke thought. She walked towards him and snatched up the tampon before he did, "Stick to Legos, kiddo," she told him. The boy laughed and ran off.

"Yes, this is she," Brooke heard Peyton say to the person on the other end.

Stuffing the tampon into her back pocket, Brooke glances around the room at other clothes that caught her eye.

"Oh, hey! Julian! How are you?"

Brooke's head snapped up.

Peyton grinned at Brooke and pointed to the phone. _It's him!_ She mouthed.

Peyton was a little surprised. It had been two weeks since they had gone in for their interviews. After so many days, of not hearing from anyone she figured Julian had cast some other girls. Which had been a disappointment, since Peyton had actually gotten into the idea of being on TV.

For Brooke the interview had been a blast. She had liked watching the shocked expressions on Dana's and Mitch's faces as she described her philosophy about one-night stands and so forth.

And Peyton confessed to Brooke finally, that she, too, wanted to be on the show. When it looked like they weren't going to be getting a callback, Brooke had mourned the lost opportunity, with a new conquest.

"Yeah, she's with me right now," Peyton was saying. "Oh, she left her phone in the car." She gestured furiously for Brooke to come stand next to her, then pulled the phone away from her ear, and put it on speaker mode so they could both listen. Brooke leaned her head against Peyton's.

Julian continued, "So I'm sorry it's taken two weeks for me to get back to you guys, but I've been putting together a crew. It's been hell. Anyway, I watched both of your interviews and they looked great. Meet me for lunch and let's talk about the show.

_What?????_

Brooke grabbed Peyton's hand and squeezed, hard. Brooke clearly couldn't hold in her excitement.

"What the hell does that mean? Are we in? Peyton whispered.

"I don't know, but I think so," Brooke mouthed back, her eyes wide.

"Peyton? You still there?" Julian said after a moment.

"Yeah!"

"How about the Ivy, tomorrow at one. My assistant will make a reservation."

"Sure," Peyton said.

"Great! See you tomorrow."

"Kay. Bye."

Peyton snapped her phone shut and stared at Brooke. "What just happened?" She asked, sounding puzzled. "Does that mean he wants to put us on the show?"

"Why would he meet us if her didn't? Brooke pointed out. Although as Brooke said it Peyton doubted herself because, really? He'd chosen _them?_ Out of how many other girls? It just seemed so . . . unbelievable. But also, exciting.

"Oh my god," Brooke whispered. Then screamed. People in the shop turned and stared. "Are we gonna be on TV?" Peyton stared at Brooke.

Brooke stared right back. "Shit. I think so!"

The Brooke told Peyton to buy whatever clothing she wanted. "We're living on the edge not," Brooke joked.

"Yep. Watch out world. Here we come!"

All the tension of the Lucas conversation slipped away, as they traded quips about their impending TV stardom.


	5. One Tree Hill

**A/N: **Don't yell at me for giving you guys a shorter chapter. I could've made it longer, but then you'd all have to wait, so really I'm doing everyone a favour. :P

I'll post a longer one later, but I'm busy lately with my Drama classes out of school, and in school. Tons of memorizing trying to do right now, and getting ready before getting discovered as an actess. My trainer says when I'm ready she'll let me know, but it should be less than a year, so that's good news. Then comes the agent, auditions, and a lot less time for writing, but lets not get a head of ourselves. I have tons of time right now, well i'm trying to make time.

Enjoy!

**--**

As Peyton and Brooke walked up to the pretty brick building with a white picket fence, Peyton noticed several photographers holding cameras and camcorders. She headed for the restaurant's front entrance, past the ivy-coloured trees and the thick, fragrant curtain of climbing roses.

The hostess led them to the beautiful patio and one of the umbrella-adorned tables, where Julian was typing on his BlackBerry. He looked up from the screen and smiled at them, then rose from his seat to kiss each girl on the cheek. He wore black slacks, a black long-sleeved button-down shirt, and a silver Rolex watch. His curly, brown hair brushed his collar, his intense brown eyes gave off a look they couldn't quite read, and he had this goofy grin across his face. Brooke detected the slightest trace of some subtle, expensive-smelling aftershave. _Yummy. _She found him very good looking at TRIC, and her opinion hadn't changed. She didn't normally find older men attractive (except Peyton's dad, but he was a total DILF) but he had a certain self-confidence that was appealing. But he was only what 5 years older at the most?

"Sit. Please. How are you guys?" He seemed like he was in a good mood.

"Great!" Brooke replied. Peyton nodded.

Peyton sat down, tucked her bag under her seat, and surveyed the patio. She had seen pictures of celebrities eating at the Dixie Grill in magazines, so it felt weird to be here. It was a nice day–a balmy Sunday–and the restaurant looked busy. It was smaller than she thought it would be. She recognized a blond man sitting two tables away. _Is that the man from that cell phone commercial?_

"Have you guys eaten here yet?" Julian asked as he opened his menu. "People won't shut up about the fucking vegetable salad."

"Seriously?" Brooke grinned.

"Seriously. So." Julian leaned forward and clasped his hands together. It occurred to Peyton that he had a way of making a person feel like she was the only one in the room. "_One Tree Hill. _What do you think?"

"_One Tree Hill?_" Peyton repeated.

"_One Tree Hill._ As the name of the show."

"Why would we name it after the town the two of us used to live in?" Peyton asked.

"Well because you and the two other girls in the show are all from Tree Hill." Julian replied.

"Other two girls?" Brooke asked. "Do we know them?"

"No idea." Julian replied. "So anyway what do you think?"

"It sounds like the U2 song." Peyton mentioned.

"Or a number-one show?" Julian smiled smugly.

"High expectations?" Peyton teased him.

"No, very realistic. There's such a demand for programming for girls in your demographic right now. Network execs are really focusing on that group, and this is exactly what they are looking for. _They're_ willing to bet a lot of money on this show being number one.

Peyton sat back. A number-one show? Since getting Julian's call yesterday, she had imagined . . . what? That the show might or might not go forward, might or might not get cancelled after one season, might or might not be a distant memory this time next year. She definitely hadn't imagined that it might be a top-rated show. The idea gave her goose bumps. She glanced over at Brooke, who looked kind of excited.

"Well as I already said it's going to be the two of you, and two other girls," Julian continued. "You'll meet them soon. The cameras will be following the four of you around at your jobs, at school, at home, at clubs. However you normally spend your days and nights. It will be very intimate and close-up."

_Ohmigod, this is really happening! _ Peyton thought. "Just how intimate and close-up?" she couldn't help but ask. "Like are there going to be shots of me shaving my legs?"

"_Peyton!"_ Brooke laughed. " I don't think he's interested in _that."_

Julian smiled. "No worries. The cameras will definitely leave you alone during your personal and grooming moments." He added, "As lovely as you are, Peyton, I don't think anyone wants to watch you shave your legs."

After the waitress came by to get their drink orders, Julian went on. "You're probably wondering about the practical stuff. As for your contracts, our lawyers are drawing them up as we speak. Dana will be in touch with you about the first day of shooting. If it works for you, we'd like to start the week after next. Most likely that Monday. In general, the shooting schedule is planned at the beginning of each week. Dana will keep you posted on that, check in with you about what you'll be doing and where you'll be that week, and so forth. Whenever there're locations involved, like a restaurant or club or school or office or apartment building–really, any place at all–my staff will have to get clearance to shoot. And speaking of apartment buildings . . . where do you girls live?"

Brooke told him the address. Julian pulled out his BlackBerry from his pocket and entered the information. "Right. I'll have someone contact the owner of your building." He said.

"They want to start the week after next?" Peyton managed to ask.

"Yes. Maybe a night shoot at one of the clubs."

Peyton looked a little concerned. "Because I work weekdays, and–"

"Yes! With John. His offices are funky looking. We just scouted them yesterday."

"Wait, you went there?"

"Yeah. I actually had a meeting scheduled with him after this, but he just cancelled. Some kind of band emergency."

"You talked to him?" Peyton said, shocked. She couldn't believe they had called John. She was so embarrassed. Shouldn't they have asked her before doing that?

"He seemed pretty excited to be working with us," Julian breezed on. "He thinks that he'll be able to make some of his older bands more noticed, and popular. We may even be able to film their concerts, and shows."

"Really?" Peyton felt a little relieved. Although she was a bit surprised too. John didn't seem like the type of person who would allow his space to be over run and invaded by a camera crew.

"We spoke to your mom Brooke."

"What? Why on earth would you do that? She's a psychopath!"

"Well since she's investing in you company, we needed her permission for things."

"I don't understand. Clothes Over Bros is my company. I started it in high school with Peyton. My mother has nothing to do with it. It's just her money."

"But that's why. The money." Julian stated. "Anyway we bought a store front for your first location, which we have access to filming in."

"No way!"

"Yes! So we'll let you design the store, and figure all that out with our architects, and carpenters. You can meet with them tomorrow." Julian said.

"Thank you. That's awesome!"

"Just one question," asked Peyton. "Isn't filming me work more boring than watching me shave."

_Ah, Peyt, always finding a way to both charm and get the last word,_ Brooke thought, though she could tell her friend was genuinely annoyed.

"Well, that's the thing about these shows. There's no script or story lines, so we never know when things are going to happen. For all we know, you could meet your next boyfriend at work," Julian explained.

"What do you want us to wear?" Brooke asked Julian. "And what about our hair and makeup? I mean I don't do that much, but also as a fashion designer I have my own style."

"You're on your own for that. You should dress however you would normally dress. And I wouldn't stress about makeup. Ryan, our director of photography, is a genius. Everywhere you guys film will be lit perfectly and you will look beautiful. You'll see."

A commotion on the other side of the white picket fence caught their attention. A man in his mid-thirties stepped out of a silver Bentley. The group of photographers that had been gathered out front now circled him, yelling over one another and snapping their cameras furiously. The man smiled as he made his way through them. Peyton watched people all around the restaurant discreetly glance up at him. His face looked familiar, but she couldn't place who he was.

"Amazing what _Dancing With The Stars_ will do to your career." Julian said drily.

"Is that Nick Lachey?" Peyton asked.

"No that was Drew." Brooke replied.

"I give it two weeks before he's back in rehab." Julian gazed thoughtfully at Peyton and Brooke.

"Rehab?" Brooke repeated.

Peyton had read about stars going in and out of rehab in the magazine all the time. But she had never actually seen someone who'd been in rehab in person. The guy _did_ look a little weathered.

"I hope you realize that your lives are about to change," Julian said.

His words and serious tone gave Peyton goose bumps.

"With _One Tree Hill_, you will become famous. Every girl in America will want to be you. Every guy in America will want to date you. And someday"–he nodded his head in the direction of the man from _Dancing With The Stars_ "you'll be back here, trying to have lunch while customers ask you for your autograph and photographers try to take your picture."

Brooke laughed a little at the idea and tried to catch Peyton's eye, but she was staring at her water glass. They were about to take off on a big adventure, but Brooke was wondering if either of them was ready for it.

It didn't occur to Peyton until later that night, as she lay awake trying to ignore her fear and excitement so she could finally fall asleep, that not once during their unspeakably glitzy, glamourous, life-altering lunch at the Dixie Grill had Julian actually _asked_ them if they wanted to be on _One Tree Hill_

He'd just assumed they would.

He had been right.


	6. Realizations

**A/N: **Pretty much I want to know who you think these two other girls from Tree Hill are who will also be in the reality show. I will update the story again tomorrow night. I pretty much promise, and it will make up for this being so short, but please read and review. I'm not going to be one of those people who won't update till I have a certain amount of reviews, but they really are encouraging, and make me want to write more, and more. So please it only takes a minute, and review my story. It would mean a lot to me.

Xoxo, Melly

**--**

"Oh, Jesus," Julian muttered. "This place is depressing."

Staring intently at his laptop screen, he clicked through a series of pictures. He had sent one of his PAs–production assistants–down to scout Peyton and Brooke's apartment. Peeling stucco walls in desperate need of a paint job. Spitting distance from the 101. A couple of cracked windows. A cheerless sign that stood in front.

The thing is Brooke has money. She's rich, but after moving to L.A she was turning a new leaf. She wasn't going to use her parents money anymore. She was started fresh. Everything she had she was going to earn herself, and she was doing a great job.

Anyway within seconds of buzzing for his assistant, Shari, she came into his office, speaking to someone on her headset. "That was Paul. He's in New York trying to close the deal," she said, clicking off. "He needs you to call him before the end of business. Don't forget they're three hours ahead, so you'd better call soon. What do you need?"

"We need to find them a new place to live," Julian said, sounding annoyed as he rubbed his head.

Shari nodded. She didn't even ask him who "them" was. That was one of the things he liked about her, versus the other seven assistants he'd been through in the last two years. "No problem. Starting when?"

Julian went through his mental calendar. "Starting Saturday."

"Saturday, as in the day after tomorrow?"

"As in the day after tomorrow."

She nodded again and then was gone.

Julian scrolled through his address book and made the next call on his list.

"Hello?" It was Brooke who answered.

"Brooke. It's Julian. How are you?"

"At the moment, broke!"

"Oh?"

"Yeah, Peyton and I spent the day shopping. My whole wardrobe was 'soooooo last season'. What are credit cards for right? We've gotta look good for TV!"

Julian chuckled. "Your right."

"So what's up?"

"I spoke to the owner of your building, and he wouldn't give us the clearance to shoot on his premises," Julian said. The lie came easily, in [art because he didn't believe in arbitrary labels like _facts_ and _lies_. "Something about disrupting the other tenants' privacy. Anyway, I'm arranging for the two of you to move to a new apartment, starting this–"

"_Wait! What?"_

"–starting this weekend," Julian went on, ignoring her interruption. "The network will take care of the details, like the security deposit, monthly rent, and movers and so forth. Do you want to run this by Peyton, or should I call her separately?"

"Wait. You want us to move?" We just moved here. Like a month ago! And I'm busy working on these new sketches for my new fall line and–"

"We need to be able to film you guys at home, Brooke."

"Seriously . . . Peyton hasn't even unpacked yet. She's kinda slow with her stuff like that. And we signed a lease here."

"Don't worry about the lease. And we'll find you guys an amazing apartment. We'll get you one with a pool and a view. My assistant will email you the details this afternoon, including photos."

"You're kidding me? We get a pool and don't have to pay rent?"

After hanging up, he buzzed Shari on the intercom.

"By the way, make sure the new place has a pool."

"No problem."

Lacing his fingers behind his head, Julian sat back and stared out the window, at the all-too-familiar row of billboards and palm trees and overpriced cafes. He spent way too much time in his office. But really, that was fine with him, especially now that he had _One Tree Hill_. It was going to be off the charts. He could feel it. He had the girl next door; a gorgeous brainiac; a spoiled, rich heiress; and the loveable complicated one. It was the perfect formula. This is what he was good at–people. Knowing what makes them tick and presenting that for America's entertainment. That's why he had been the top reality producer in Hollywood at one time, before the last couple of mistakes. And that's why he would be the top reality producer in Hollywood again, with _One Tree Hill._

--

_Pop!_

Peyton watched, amused, as Brooke uncorked the bottle of champagne. A stream of white, frothy bubbles came shooting out of the top. Squealing, and laughing , Brooke angled it away from her and towards Peyton, spilling some on her sketchbook and on the new cream carpet.

"Yes Brooke, I thought my drawing was too dull, too!" she said. "We've been here an hour and you're already making a mess."

Brooke handed her the bottle. "What do you care?"

Peyton tilted the bottle back and took a swig. The champagne tickled her mouth. She glanced around their new apartment.

"About my sketches yes, the carpet no."

The movers had left only an hour ago. The place was much larger than their last one and it looked practically empty. It wasn't like their last move. With the last apartment, they had moved themselves and it had taken forever. _These_ movers had packed up their stuff and trucked everything over. Julian had arranged it all. _And_ sent over a bottle of champagne with a nice note about new beginnings, on a beautiful blue stationary.

Brooke was starting to change her mind about him. Maybe he wasn't a totally full-of-shit TV producer who made a lot of empty promises. Maybe her was the best thing that ever happened to them since they moved to L.A. They might not become famous like he'd promised, but Brooke figured their days of waiting in lines at clubs were numbered. And paying for their own drinks. Airtime was like a currency in this town.

As for the apartment . . . it was amazing. They might not be here in a couple of months, but in the meantime . . . Peyton stretched out across the cream carpet and stared up at the impossibly tall ceilings. The bare walls were freshly painted white. On one side of the room was a small fireplace that was controlled by a switch on the wall.

"I can't believe we live here." Brooke said looking around the apartment. "It's so much less depressing than the other one. And so much better than both of our childhood ones."

"Hey! You said it was 'charming.'"

"I was just trying to keep a positive attitude while we lived there." Brooke reached for the champagne and took a sip. "But now that we're here . . . well, it _was_ charming. A charming piece of crap."

Peyton laughed. "Yeah, it was pretty bad."

Peyton's cell began buzzing and vibrating next to her. She picked it up and checked the screen.

Her face immediately lit up. "It's Lucas!"

"Oh, really? You mean, the same Lucas who texts you like a hundred times a day? Or a different Lucas? Brooke teased her.

Peyton had started typing. "Huh? What did you say?"

Brooke shook her head. She wasn't exactly sure what, was going on between Peyton and Lucas. She knew they were friends. She knew he had told Peyton that he and Lindsay were on-again, off-again. But in her experience, "on-again, off-again" usually meant that the guy was not available for a relationship–or at least not a _real_ relationship, beyond an occasional hookup that never went anywhere because the on-again, off-again girl was always waiting in the wings. She and Peyton had been living in L.A. for more than a month now, and Peyton hadn't been on a date yet. Brooke wondered if she was holding out for Lucas, which would be a huge mistake, with Lindsay in the picture. She had told Peyton as much-not that it had done any good. But as she glanced up to look at Peyton one more time smiling at the phone screen she knew one thing; Peyton was in way over her head, or what she was most scared of happening.

Peyton Sawyer _was_ in love with Lucas Scott.


	7. This is Unreal

**A/N: ****I promised to update tonight and i wasn't lying. Thank you everyone for the amazing reviews for the last chapter. Keep them coming ;)**

**Anyway as i also promised a longer chapter. Pretty much over 1,000 words longer than yesterdays update. I'll UDS again, i promise. :D**

**--**

"You told Lucas the news about _the show_, right? What did he say?" Brooke asked Peyton.

"He's really happy for us," Peyton replied. "I get the feeling he's not that into reality TV, though."

"Sour grapes," Brooke said. "He's just jealous because you got an acting job before he got his book published."

"It isn't an acting job, Brooke. It's reality," Peyton reminded her.

While Peyton exchanged text messages with Lucas, Brooke glanced at the piles of boxes in the living room. Julian had asked them not to move anything for a few days. The TV crew was coming over at some point to film the girls unpacking their things.

She spotted a basket near the top of an open box and dug it out. It contained bottles of nail polish, nail polish remover, cotton balls, emery boards, nail clippers, and a cuticle kit. She set it down on the chrome coffee table and chose a purple polish.

"Can you hand me the black?" Peyton said, barely glancing up from her phone.

"You sure you want Lucas thinking you're all emo?" Peyton just gave her an evil glare before getting back to her phone.

As Brooke began painting her nails, the thoughts wandered to the events of the last month. So much had happened so fast. First they move to L.A., then start working, then _One Tree Hill_ . . . and not this apartment. It almost seemed too good to be true. Sure, work wasn't perfect, she was trying hard to become _known._ On the other hand all her high school experience was coming in handy. She knew the right people, besides she was smarter than almost everyone else in the business. And as for _One Tree Hill_–well, Julian _had_ hooked them up with this gorgeous place. She'd definitely re-pay him later. And it _was_ going to be a crazy experience being on TV. But there was also a big, huge question mark hovering over everything. As happy as she was with Julian now, today, she didn't totally trust him. You weren't supposed to trust Hollywood producers, right? You were supposed to let lawyers, agents, managers, and people like that advise you about them. The problem was, Brooke didn't have anyone to ask advice about this whole business. Fine she did, her mother, but she would _never_ let it come to that. _Ever_. Forget about lawyers, agents, and managers. She was managing very well on her own.

"You want more champagne?" she asked Peyton, holding the bottle gingerly between two freshly manicured fingers.

"Why not?" Peyton said, reaching for the bottle. And Brooke didn't feel like thinking about _One Tree Hill_ anymore.

--

It was late on Monday night when Brooke and Peyton hopped out of the cab down the street from TRIC. They had opted to get out on the corner, rather than run up the meter while waiting in the line of cars that extended way down the block.

Brooke was wearing a charcoal shift dress. The back dipped into a low V accented with a large black chiffon bow. A layer of delicate black lace peeked out from the bottom of her dress. Her brown hair was pulled back tightly into a straight ironed ponytail. Her makeup was simple: coral blush on her cheeks and a gunmetal shadow brushed under her brown eyes.

Peyton wore dark skinny jeans and a thin black T-shirt with a deep V. She had several gold necklaces layered over her chest. Brooke even had to persuade Peyton to wear a little more makeup than usual. Even if it _had_ required practically pinning her down, Brooke had managed to apply mascara, bronzer, and lip gloss to Peyton's face. Peyton had also reluctantly allowed Brooke to tidy up her smudged black eyeliner into sleek lines. She looked lovely, like a slightly more polished version of usual self.

The street was extra busy tonight. Closer to the parking lot, Peyton had noticed what appeared to be doors to another club. She hadn't noticed it last time they were there. A large crowd of people spilled out of the messy line and into the street. She and Brooke made their way past the mass of clubgoers and walked through the parking lot of TRIC.

As Julian had promised, Dana had called over the weekend to arrange for tonight's shoot–their very first. She had told the girls to find the tech van in the lot next to the club. She would meet them there so they could be miked and given further instructions.

Peyton peered around the lot. "Did she say where they would be?" she asked Brooke, frowning. "Can you call her?"

Brooke pulled out her phone and dialed the producer's number.

"Brooke!" Dana sounded anxious when she picked up. "Are you and Peyton here yet?"

"Yeah. We're in the parking lot. Where are you guys?" Brooke asked, looking around her.

"We're in the very back. Look for two white vans."

While walking farther into the lot, Peyton spotted two minivans parked side by side at the far end. They were a little more soccer mom than she had expected.

"There!" Peyton pointed as she started heading toward them.

Brooke's eyes followed. "Oh my God!" They're rocking the minivans! They are so not like us at all." She laughed.

When Peyton first got her driver's license, she had been so excited to pick out her first car. She got a 1960's Mercury Comet. She loved that car. And well Brooke had a Voltzwagon beatle.

As they got closer to the vans, they saw a bunch of crew members, dressed in various versions of all-black outfits. There had to be almost a dozen people from PopTV to film her and Brooke. A few of them were unloading large pieces of camera equipment out of the back of one of the vans. Peyton wondered how the camera guy would maneuver those huge cameras in the crowded club. She was about to ask Brooke when the passenger door to the second van swung open.

"Great, you found us. You ready to get started?" Dana said, climbing out of the van and adjusting her earpiece. Her eyes looked even more tired than they had at Peyton's initial interview three weeks ago, with her and Mitch. Had she been pulling all-nighters? Peyton fought the impulse to offer the woman some concealer.

"Yes. So are we getting miked out here?" Peyton asked her.

"Right over here," Dana said, motioning toward the closer of the two vans. The back was open and a younger looking guy was sitting on the bumper. He had a large pack of sound equipment strapped to the front of him by a padded harness. He unhooked the equipment and set it in the back of the van. Peyton watched as he reached in and pulled out two small microphones. They were smaller than the ones she and Brooke had worn during their interviews. They were only a half an inch thick and silver. He unwound the thin black cord from the first silver pack.

"Peyton?" He looked at both of them.

"Here!" Peyton stepped towards him.

He eyed her outfit for a moment. "You're wearing a bra, right?"

She looked only a little taken aback. "Um, yeah,"

"Okay." He took out a piece of double-sided tape and began peeling the paper off one side. "Well I'm gonna have you tape this microphone to the inside of the front of your bra and run the wire around your side, then I'll clip the mike pack on the back of your bra."

He pressed the tape down, securing it against the tiny mike, and handed it to her. Then he pushed both his thumbs against the tiny mike pack, holding down two buttons at once. After a couple seconds, a small green light glowed on the top.

"You can go in the van if you want." He glanced at Peyton. She had her shirt pulled up over her bra as she tried to get the tape to stick to the inside of her lacy black cup. "Oh . . . or you could do it out here."

"That's it Peyton, don't be shy or anything." Brooke joked.

Peyton turned to the sound guy, holding up the round metal piece at the end of the wire. He clipped it into the pack, wrapped the extra wire around the silver pack, and hooked it to the back of her bra. Peyton pulled her shirt back down and turned her back to Brooke.

"Hunchback?" she asked as she attempted to look over her own shoulder.

"Actually . . ." Brooke said examined the back of Peyton's shirt. "You can barely see it."

"Okay, then you must be Brooke," the sound guy said. She noticed a white piece of what looked like surgical tape on the bottom of the second tape. Her name had been written across it with a black Sharpie.

"Yes, but um . . . " Brooke turned around, revealing her exposed back. "No bra. I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"It's cool." He shrugged. "What are you wearing under your dress?"

"Underwear."

"What kind?"

"Shit, buy the girl a drink first." Peyton laughed.

"What do you mean? Like what brand of underwear?"

"No." The guy laughed. "I need to know if it can support the pack. I can always use a leg strap, but they're just a little uncomfortable and tend to fall off."

"They're Victoria Secret booty underwear."

"That should be fine. I'm just going to have you tape the mike onto your skin." He touched the center of her chest with his index finger, indicating the placement. "You wanna hop in the van to put it on?"

"I'm fine out here."

A couple of guys passed them. One in a trucker had yelled out to Brooke.

Peyton laughed, almost amused at her friend's total disregard for acceptable parking lot etiquette. "And you thought I was shy." She joked.

She turned back to the sound guy and reached for the mike pack. He attached it tot the wire and wound the slack around the pack as he had done before. She lifted up her dress and hooked the mike pack onto her Victoria Secret underwear. The metal pack was a little cold against her skin. She pulled her dress down, and turned around to see Dana waiting for her.

"Okay, so they're almost done setting up the cameras." Dana said. "We're gonna have you walk back out to the front of the club. Don't get in line. Go right up to the door. Tom, the doorman, knows to let you in. The cameras will be shooting the entrance, so act natural, okay? Anyway once, you're in, just wait for us. We have to re-po cameras inside. It will just take a minute."

"Then what?" Peyton asked her.

"Then just have fun. Act natural," Dana advised. "The cameras will be shooting the interior club scene the whole time, too, but they'll be very unobtrusive. And we've already gotten releases from everyone who's seated in your area."

"We have an area?" Brooke said, surprised, at the same time that Peyton said, "They make everyone sign release?"

"Yeah," Dana answered them both. "We have Pas go into the bar ahead of you and ask anyone who might be in a shot to sign a release form saying it's okay for their images to appear on TV," she explained. "Otherwise they have to blur their faces and it doesn't look–"

Dana stopped short. She looked distracted for a moment. She reached down and unhooked the black walkie-talkie that was attached to her jeans. "Yes, all miked up."

For a second, Peyton wondered what the hell Dana was talking about, but then she remembered the earpiece was there for a reason.

She smiled wearily at them. "Okay. I think we're ready to . . . wait, hang on." She pulled cell phone out of her back pocket. "Oh, it's Julian."

"Yes?" Dana said into the phone as she glances at her watch again. "Don't worry, we're right on schedule. The girls are here and miked and . . . What? _Oh._ Yes, I'll take care of it."

Dana hung up and began rummaging through a beige canvas bag with PopTV logo on it. She dug out a manila envelope and pulled out two sheets. "I almost forgot. I have releases for you girls," she said apologetically. "I guess they haven't finished your contracts yet so we're going to have you to sign day releases for tonight."

Peyton took the paper from Dana and started scanning it.

"It's a standard form. Like I said before, everyone who's supposed to has signed one already." Dana reached into her bag and pulled out two pens. "Here you go. Just sign and date on the bottom of the page."

Peyton only sighed and took on of Dana's pens. "Whatever," she said.

--

Peyton sank back into the plush velvet booth as she squeezed a lime into her vodka soda. The DJ was playing one of her favourite songs.

_This is so totally different from the last time we were here,_ she wanted to say to Brooke. But she was aware–very aware, actually–of the fact that they were being filmed. Not that it would be obvious to anyone who didn't have to sign a release–the cameras were tucked away in the corners of the room, as Dana had promised.

She knew her and Brooke were supposed to "act natural," which meant that they weren't supposed to talk about the fact that Tom the doorman (the same one who had made them wait forty-five minutes last time) had let them in immediately, as though he had been expecting them (he had), with a smile as though he knew them (he didn't). Or the fact that the stylishly dressed hostess had led them–all friendly as though they were regulars or celebrities, or both–to what seemed like the best table in the club. Or the fact that the waitress had offered them "bottle service," bringing them over a bottle of Grey Goose vodka, ice, and all the fixings, so they could mix whatever drinks they wanted (for as many rounds as they wanted) on their own. All without asking them for I.D. It was . . . _unreal_ was the word that popped into Peyton's mind. Which was funny–and a little ironic–since this was supposed to be a _reality_ show.

"Hey, can we borrow a couple of lines? We're totally out."

Peyton turned around to see a girl in the next booth smiling at her and Brooke.

She looked _oddly_ familiar.

"Haley?"


	8. Dreams Coming True

**A/N: **A third update in three days? Melissa this is a new record! Oh i know! (:

So this should excite all you cause that's what it's doing to me. Anyway to my good reviewers and friends i'm aware of your thoughts and what you want to happen, and i put them into thought when writing, just to let you know.

Read and Review please. It means a lot. Seriously.

Xoxo, Melly

**--**

"Yeah. Oh my god. Peyton! Brooke! How are you girls?"

"Were you know, good." Brooke replied.

"Well I was just here with Rachel, and we've been trying to get our waitress's attention forever. She's totally disappeared."

"She probably fell into a black hole," Rachel said drily.

"Hey Rachel, and here." Brooke handed over a small crystal glass full of sliced limes. "What do you guys think of this place?"

Rachel grinned. "It's awesome. I practically live here. Atmosphere is great, and the DJ is prime hookup material–don't you think?

"Rachel, you can't say things like that!" Haley gasped.

Rachel took a sip of her cosmo and accidently spilled some on her pale pink silk blouse. "Oh, shit! Am I going to get electrocuted?" She asked swatting her chest.

Peyton and Brooke looked at each other as Rachel unbuttoned her blouse and studied her boobs with a worried expression. Peyton watched in confusion. What was she doing?

Then Peyton saw the flash of familiar black wire and realized Rachel was wearing the same kind of microphone as they were. Were Haley miked too? Peyton saw that Brooke had also noticed.

They looked at each other, puzzled. _Did they mike everyone in the room? Or just Haley and Rachel? Were they more important than the others in this room? _Knowing that she was–that they _all_ were–still on camera, Peyton refrained from voicing her questions out loud.

"Haley and I were talking about doing a beauty day this Saturday," Rachel said brightly. "You should come. Both of you."

"We'll get facials, get our hair done, maybe nails. It'll be a total glam day." Haley finished.

"No thank–" Peyton began.

Brooke stepped on Peyton's foot with her silver wedge. "Sounds fun!" she said quickly. "I could use a girls' day."

Peyton kicked Brooke's shin under the table. Brooke suppressed a cry of pain and kept smiling.

She glared at Peyton. _These must be the other girls Julian had mentioned from Tree Hill. Why else would they be miked? So we better hang out them even if we hate them,_ Brooke thought, rubbing her shin.

Peyton reached for her vodka and wondered what-the-hell kind of "reality" she'd just signed herself up for.

--

The next dat Peyton had the day off from work. She had nothing to do all day. Brooke was working, and Peyton was alone. She picked up her phone and went through the contact list. Her eyes stopping to scan all the names that passed. She stopped at Lucas. Would he be busy? She pressed the little green call button.

"Hello?" Lucas answered.

"Hey, it's Peyton. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out."

"Sure. What you have in mind?"

"Wanna go to Dave and Busters?" She had no idea where this came from. It was the first thing that had popped into her head.

"Seriously?"

"Why not?

"Sure. What time?"

"Whenever." Peyton replied.

"I'll pick you up in half an hour. Is that good for you?" Lucas asked.

"Yeah." Peyton was really excited. Who was she to pretend she wasn't.

30 minutes went by fast. Peyton's curly hair was at it's best today, and Lucas really loved her hair. She wore little booty shorts that exaggerated the length of her legs, and a blue v-neck. Lucas also loved those legs. He's daydreamed being able to feel her legs. Being able to slide his fingers through her hair. He liked her. He really did.

They played games for what seemed like hours. From skeeball, to bowling, to basketball (which Lucas obviously won), to wheel of fortune, to the cash machines. They had a great day where they could be just kids. With all the tickets they won they decided to get a prize for one another.

Peyton had no idea what to pick out. She went with a basketball.

"You go first." Lucas insisted.

"Fine." She handed over the ball. "Because you beat me so badly today."

He chuckled. "And here for you for reminder of this day." Lucas handed Peyton a teddy bear.

"Thanks. I had a lot of fun."

"Me too. Me too."

--

That evening, Peyton and Brooke received their _One Tree Hill _contracts at home, by messenger. The two of them went through the thick document at the kitchen table, over beers.

"Does this make any sense to you?" Brooke said, skimming the pages. Everything was in tiny print, in really convoluted English, and Brooke didn't have the patience for it.

Peyton skimmed through the pages, too. "Uh . . . not really. Hey, do you know how much they're paying us to be on this show? Julian didn't said anything about that. _Holy shit!"_ Hey eyes grew huge.

Brooke's head whipped up. "Holy shit _what? _What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong! It says, 'two thousand dollars episodic fee.' They're paying us two thousand dollars _per episode_!"

For a moment, Brooke felt as though she couldn't breathe. "Seriously?" she finally managed.

"Seriously. It says so right here, on page twelve."

Brooke flipped quickly to page twelve. There it was, right there at the top of the page. She didn't understand the rest of the legal jargon, but she understood _that. _"Holy shit!" she agreed. "Dana said they're filming ten episodes this first season, which means–"

"Twenty . . . thousand . . . dollars," Peyton said slowly.

Brooke said nothing. She stared at Peyton as she took a long sip of beer.

They then sat back in their chairs, not speaking for a while. Peyton tried to absorb this _new_ reality. Twenty grand–just for being filmed doing stuff she would have done anyway, like going to work and hanging out with her friends. She couldn't believe it. She had never made that much money in her entire life, not that she ever had a part time job to get the money from. But that doesn't matter. And of course, John was only paying her minimum wage. Maybe now she wouldn't need to dip into her savings as much. Maybe she could make something of her dreams now. Peyton had always wanted to start her own label, but of course she didn't have the money for that. Peyton was more advanced than girls her age, or a lot of people in the business actually. She had produced two albums before she graduated high school. Two. Haley James was on both of them. Anyway, was this really happening?

"We should get a lawyer to read through these first." Brooke suggested. "Or your dad."

"I can try, but he's probably on a dredging boat somewhere in the middle of nowhere still."

"Perfect. So what do you think, you wanna go spend our first paychecks before we get them?" Brooke grinned.

"Um as fun as that sounds I think I'll pass."

"Oh come on. Please."

"No."

--

Peyton worked in the mail room. She should be doing more. She always thought she should be doing more, but she wasn't. She handed out mail.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and noticed she had a new message from Rachel. Did Rachel seriously _still_ have her email? Or had she asked Dana for it? _Note to self, change email immediately, _she thought.

**To: Peyton Sawyer, Brooke Davis, Haley James Scott**

**From: Rachel Gatina**

**Subject: Girls' Day!**

**Hey Bitches!! So this Saturday I'm planning a girls' day for us. We're all meeting at the Venetian Spa (go online to pick the tratment you want), then the lunch and the blowouts at Kate Tricomi. So fun! Be prepared for a whole day of beauty treatments. Also bring a cute outfit so we can go out after. (Gotta go out and show off our gorgeous new selves, right?) Don't bother to RSVP because I'm not taking no for an answer!!**

**XOXO, Rachel.**

Brooke had already responded: **Can't Wait!**

Haley had responded, too: **So in!**

_Awesome. I guess this means I have to go too,_ Peyton thought. She wondered if Julian or Dana–or both–had been blind copied of the message.

After TRIC, Dana had confirmed that Haley and Rachel were the two other girls on _One Tree Hill._ _Thanks for the heads-up, _Peyton had thought._ You most certainly couldn't told us before we walked into the club._ Now she would have to deal with seeing Haley all the time. It's not that she hated Haley it was just seeing her reminded her of what Nathan did to her, and now Haley and Nathan were actually married? When did this happen? They hadn't been together for _that_ long. Well if Haley was happy, Peyton thought maybe she could deal with this. It's just weird they get away from Tree Hill, but they're still with the same people. So It seems like they never left.

Haley was in L.A. trying to make her career bigger. She was a singer, and she had gone on tour with Chris Keller back in high school. Before everything with Nathan. And she enjoyed it, but I guess she just had enough, so she came back home and finished school.

Rachel was in town working at becoming a model. She's already been on the cover of Maxim as Tree Hills _Home Town Hottie,_ but she wanted to do more.

Anyway was this what Julian and Dana meant by "act natural"? Because hanging out in a spa with two girls they supposedly just met, was most definitely _not_ natural. Not to mention that Peyton wasn't huge on spas–or girls like Rachel.

--

Brooke however was in hell at the moment. Well that's what she considered it. She was in construction working hell, as her first officially store was being put together.

Brooke looked around at the crew, as they were huddled around the store. The camera operator guy was cute. He had a folded bandana wrapped around his forehead, holding back a full head of light brown waves. She hadn't noticed him before. She hadn't actually paid any attention to any of the camera guys. They were always stationed behind their equipment by the time she entered a room, but they were on break right now and wandering about. Another guy in his mid-twenties was talking into a walkie-talkie. He was wearing a faded black T-shirt that showed his chiseled arms. _Hmmm, eye candy _. . . , she thought as she turned and headed out of the store to pick up some lunch. _Maybe this won't be so bad after all._

--

Peyton peered at her watch as she rushed out of the elevator. Her phone started ringing, as she dug to get it out of her purse.

"Do you think we're allowed to date the crew?" Brooke asked.

"I never thought about it, but probably not why?" Peyton wondered where this was coming from.

"I was just wondering."

"Brooke Penelope Davis tell me right now!"

"Well I was looking at the crew and noticed they're kind of cute, and Julian–"

"You want to go out with Julian?"

"No I never said that, but he is cute. Like have you actually looked at him?"

"Um I have, and no."

"Oh right I forgot, you only have eyes for Lucas."

"Shut up! I'll be home soon. We'll talk then. "

"Well I'm not actually home–" Brooke got cut off.

"Then I'll talk to you later tonight. Bye." Peyton hung up her phone. Then her phone buzzed as she received a text message.

**I'm coming over, we need to talk. **It was from Lucas. Her heart actually skipped a beat. She jumped into her Comet, and drove home.

--

Peyton rushed back to her apartment in time to freshen up. It was six o'clock, and she had gotten off work at five thirty. She reapplied mascara, and put on a little lip gloss. She didn't want it to seem like she was trying too hard. She usually played hard to get, but it was different this time. With Lucas she just felt comfortable. Like they've known each other their whole lives.

There was a knock on her door.

"Hey," Lucas said, standing in the doorway.

"Hey."

They smiled at each other for a moment.

"Can I come in?" Lucas asked.

"Oh yeah, sorry. Come in." Peyton glanced around the house, happy that it didn't look like a complete mess. She forgot to clean up before he came over.

Lucas closed the door behind him and sunk down onto the couch. He sat their quietly for a moment.

"So how are you?" Peyton asked, wondering why he was here.

"Me? I'm good." He laughed kindly. "To be honest, I wanted to share something with you."

"Go ahead."

"Well I was walking on the street and my phone rang. So I answered it and it was my agent telling me that they want to publish my book."

"That's great Lucas. Congratulations!" she gave him a big hug.

"And that's when I realized my dreams were coming true. I was going to call Lindsay and realized she's not the one I wanted to share this with. " Peyton was genuinely confused. "When all my dreams come true, you're the one I want standing next to me."

"What?" Peyton asked.

"You heard me. Peyton I really like you." Peyton's heart started beating faster, and faster as Lucas leaned in closer, and closer.

"What about Lindsay?" She had to ask.

"Lindsay's gone. I told her whatever we were that it was over." Lucas leaned in closer and their lips met. They parted, and Peyton looked at him for a moment before he kissed her again. She kissed him back. He layed her back down on the couch. His body on top of hers. His tongue begged for entrance into her mouth, and she granted it. She put her hands up his shirt, and felt his gorgeous abs. There making out session, was getting hot and steamy.

The front door opened.

"Hey Peyton, so I wanted to finish our conver–" Brooke spotted the two blondes. Who broke apart so fast you wouldn't believe it. Peyton wiped her mouth, where her lips were now swollen. "You two are totally hot together!"

"Brooke!" Peyton yelled at her.

"Sorry, I'll just go, I'll come back later." She closed the door and went into the hallway.

Peyton gave Lucas a sympathetic look before kissing him on the lips again.

The door opened again.

"One more thing, I want details later!" Brooke shouted.

"Brooke!" Both of them yelled this time.

"I'm going, I'm going. Sheesh" This time she actually left.

Peyton was a bit embarrassed. She just looked up at Lucas and couldn't help but laugh. And neither could he.


	9. Tell Me Everything

**A/N: **4 Updates in 4 days? Melissa seriously you're on the biggest roll ever! I know thanks (:

So once again I was really in the mood for writing a new chapter so here it is. I just wish I was getting a few more reviews. I love reading them, and hearing peoples thoughts, and guess' on what they thinks going to happen. I know but none of you do. :P

Enjoy!

Xoxo, Melly

**--**

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" Brooke screamed while jumping on Peyton in her bed.

"Go away!" Peyton moaned.

"No wake up, because I need details right now!"

"Brooke! I'm sleeping!"

"Not anymore! So tell me about last night!"

"Ugh. Fine." Peyton opened her eyes, and pulled her self up in bed.

"Was he a good kisser?–"

"So Lucas came over, and told me he wanted to be with me, and were together now. Officially." Peyton's green eyes sparkled as she talked.

"Really?" Brooke was in awe.

"Yep." Peyton said nodding.

"Lindsay's gone?"

"She no longer exists."

"I'm so happy for you sweetie." She pulled Peyton into a bearhug.

"Brooke, can't breathe here–"

"Sorry. You can go back to sleep now. We'll talk more later." Brooke walked out of the room, and into the kitchen. It was about 9:00am. Peyton Sawyer didn't awake till at least 10:00. Good thing her work started at 10:30. It was more than enough time for her to get ready. Her work used to start at 7:50am. Well until she was on _One Tree Hill_. They let her be able to sleep in.

--

Peyton drove her car into her parking lot, and stopped her car. She looked at the time on the dashboard. _Shit!_ She was late. However she had an excuse for this morning. John had her running around doing errands. Plus, the _One Tree Hill_ crew were going to be following her for the rest of the day. They intercepted her in the parking lot, miked her, and filmed her getting out of her car and walking into the lobby of Sire Records. Five times. Now they were setting up in the front area to film her "arriving for work."

Peyton knew they followed Brooke yesterday, and was wondering if they were filming Haley and Rachel sometime today too. Or did they have their own camera crew? Dana hadn't mentioned that. In any case, Peyton still didn't really like these girls. They had a history, yes. But somewhere between all that, Peyton had to give them a chance. It was a new beginning. Sure Haley and Nathan got married, but now she had Lucas. The _other_ Scott. And she liked him much better anyway.

"Hi, Sandra!" Peyton said, waving to the receptionist. She tried to speak at the usual, acceptable low decibel but she knew that would only guarantee her a text message from Dana to tell her to say it again, a little louder.

Sandra adjusted her silver headset and peered out at Peyton from behind her desk. She glanced self-consciously at the two camera guys zooming in on her. "Hi, Peyton. John wants to see you in his office right away," she whispered.

Peyton felt her blood freeze. She's only been here how long, and she was getting fired? John never called Peyton into his office unless she was in trouble. It was always something like, "Peyton, the last time I checked I asked you to put the mail on my desk not in the slot," or "Peyton, why does my sandwich have one slice of bacon on it, when I asked for two?" What had she done this time? Either way, she preferred that her humiliating lectures take place in private–just her and John behind closed doors. _Guess not today._ She frowned towards the cameras, which were supposed to be capturing "an average workday." _Well, now, the One Tree Hill viewers are going to see my average ass getting yelled at, _Peyton thought.

She sighed and hoisted her bag higher on her shoulders. "Thanks Pam," she said, then started heading towards John's office.

"Wait! Peyton!" A man wearing an earpiece holding a small monitor rushed up to her. "Hey, I'm Matt. I'm directing today's shoot."

Peyton tried to hide her confusion. What did he mean, directing? She thought they were just following her around. What needed to be directed?

"Hey. Sorry, Pam said John wants to talk to me."

"Yeah, we know. We just need a few minutes to set up cameras," Matt explained, moving to the side as several crew members passed them, carrying cameras and other equipment.

Peyton and Matt proceeded to John Knight's office and stopped right outside. Peyton waited while Matt stood next to her, fussing with buttons on the small monitor in his hand. The screen alternated between shots of John, and an empty chair. Peyton watched as John said there, patiently waiting for Peyton's entrance. He looked evil on the screen.

"Okay, you can go in now," Matt instructed Peyton as he stepped away from the door.

Peyton knocked lightly before going inside. John looked up from his computer screen. "Good morning, Peyton! Please come in and sit down." He sounded more pleasant than usual. _He must enjoy humiliating people_, Peyton thought. Who was she kidding John _loved_ humiliating people.

As she stepped into John's office, Peyton looked around her. The room was quite ugly. It would be impossible for the cameras to make this place look nice.

Peyton sat down in one of the chairs, set her bad on the floor, and crossed her legs. Her foot began twitching.

John looked at Peyton as he leaned back in his chair, and put his feet on his desk. "So Peyton. You're probably wondering why I called you in here today."

Peyton nodded, her eyes wide.

"I realize you've been here at Sire Records for only a short time," John said "But during that short time, you've–"

–_managed to screw up just about everything I've asked you to do,_ Peyton finished silently.

"–handled the pressure very well. I think it's time for you to move up to the next step. To that end, I would like to offer you a promotion. How would you like to be assistant to the assistant?"

Peyton's jaw dropped. Was he serious? John was offering her . . . a promotion? To be an assistant? Fine an assistant to the assistant, but it's the same thing. Why would he do that?

"Of course it's strictly on a trial basis," John went on. "Let's say three months. And if you succeed, your future as a label executive in this town will be virtually guaranteed."

John waited for Peyton's answer. "Well, Peyton?" John prompted her.

The camera zoomed in on Peyton. She took a deep breath. Was she ready for this? A real job was better than and internship because it meant she would get paid a little bit more. It also meant that she would get more responsibilities, more respect . . . more _everything._

"Yes!" Peyton said, nodding. "I'd love to. Than you so much!"

John smiled creeply. It didn't look natural on him. "Good. Let me show you where you'll be sitting. Then we can have Human Resources draw up your paperwork."

Peyton couldn't believe what had just happened. In a daze of excitement and confusion, she thanked John once more. She was just about to stand when Matt opened the door and popped his head in. "That was great! We just need a wide shot real quick. Give us a quick minute to set up," he said.

A couple of crew members rushed into the room. Peyton watched as they bustled around her.

"Okay," Matt said, putting a hand on Peyton's shoulder. "So count to ten after I leave the room, then thank her again and walk out the door."

"Okay." Peyton nodded as he turned and left the room. She took a breath and looked back up at John, trying not to feel totally overwhelmed by everything that was going on. _One, two three . . . ,_ she counted mentally.

Then John did the most surprising thing yet. He leaned in toward Peyton and whispered, "You're doing great, kid." And then he smiled.

He then straightened up and resumed his usual cool, businesslike expression.

"Peyton? You still counting?" We're ready for you!" Peyton heard Matt say from behind the closed door.

--

"Excuse me."

Peyton spun around. Standing in the doorway was a guy with short, cropped blonde hair and blue eyes. He reminded her of Lucas, but not as cute. He was carrying a few demos with him.

"Hi," Peyton said, a little startled.

"Hey, there," the guy said. "I'm looking for John Knight, but I think I got lost. We had a meeting to go over some possible new records.

"Across the hall," Peyton said pointing. "He actually has someone in there right now . . . you may want to wait a minute."

"I'm sorry. The girl at the front told me to come straight back."

"Oh, no worries. He pulled someone in there for a second. Some mix-up."

"I'm Nick."

"I'm Peyton. Are you a musician?"

"Yeah."

"Cool."

Nick smiled at her. He had a really cute smile. "Hey this may be a little forward, but . . . could I call you sometime? Maybe we could go out for coffee or something? I just moved here from San Francisco, and I don't know too many people in town."

Peyton was taken aback by his forwardness. They had met all of sixty seconds ago. "I don't really think so. Sorry."

"That's okay."

Peyton blinked. Oh, yeah. The cameras were still rolling. Nick was being filmed. But he didn't seem to be fazed by it.

Did that mean he had walked into her office knowing there would be cameras? Had Dana already talked to him and gotten him to sign the release papers? Had she _told_ him to ask her out? Or did he just happen to be there for the meeting, like he said.

Just then, John's door opened, and Nick disappeared into John's office.

Peyton looked past the camera in the hallway and spotted Dana. Dana mouthed "Why didn't you say yes?" Peyton gave her a look which meant, I'll tell you why later. Then Peyton noticed the release form in Dana's hand. Did that mean Nick had been released? Did that mean it _had_ been a setup? This really annoyed Peyton. They couldn't have all these guys asking her out. She had a boyfriend now. Lucas. And she was happy. It had been too long.

--

"So why'd you say no to him?" Dana confronted Peyton.

"Well, he's cute, but I have a boyfriend?" she admitted.

"Really? Who? And since when?" she asked.

"Um, his name is Lucas Scott, and since last night."

"We're going to have to talk to him, about possibly being on camera. If you guys go out were gonna wanna film it."

--

That night, Peyton walked into TRIC and headed into the back room. Even though it was a Thursday night, the place was packed, but she didn't mind. Lucas was at the bar waiting for her. She couldn't imagine anywhere she'd rather be than here with Lucas without the cameras. She hadn't seen him since last night, and it drove her crazy all day.

"Hey!" she said, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

"Hey!" Lucas said, before gathering her up in his arms and kissing her passionately on the lips. "It's good to see you."

"I missed you." She sat down beside him, smiling. She took a moment to admire his appearance without making it obvious what she was doing. He was wearing tailored dark jeans and a navy-and-white-striped sweater. He had more stubble than usual. Tonight more than ever he struck her as the kind of guy who had no idea how hot he was–which, in Peyton's opinion, made him even more attractive. And now that they weren't friends, she was able to think of him as _hot _rather than just attractive. Friends weren't supposed to think of each other as _hot._ That's just the way it was.

Lucas handed her a menu. "They have ever martini you can every think of here, if you hadn't noticed before."

She hadn't. "Eww . . . a garlic mashed potato martini?" Peyton said, glancing at the menu. "Who would drink that? I think I'll play it safe with an apple."

Lucas motioned to the bartender and ordered her drink. "So how's life as a big TV star?" he asked her playfully.

"Ha-ha," Peyton said. "Actually, it's not at all what I expected."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean . . . well . . . I thought it was going to be easy. Fun. Like Brooke and I would show up at a club a couple times a week and be filmed or whatever. And maybe they'd even film me at work once in a while. But it's way more intense than that, and it's only been a week. The cameras are always following me around, you know? They film me answering phones at the office. They film me at home. They even film me when I go out if it's just to the Starbucks around the cornet. It's kinda weird."

Lucas glanced over her shoulder. "Uh-oh. Are they here now?" he joked.

Peyton grinned. "Nope. I made my escape."

"Good! Next time, we'll have to wear disguises."

"Yeah . . . they'll be looking for me."

As the bartender set their drinks in front of them, Peyton thought about how Lucas seemed like the only person in her life who _didn't_ want to be around when the cameras were–besides her dad, that is.

Peyton clinked her glass against Lucas'. "To us."

"So when do I get to see my beautiful girlfriend on TV?"

"Soon! I think in a month. Julian, he's the main producer, said they're going to film us for a few more weeks, then edit a bunch of stuff. Then the series premiere is going to air. They're going to keep filming us for a few months after that though, until the season's over, So there's this overlap."

"Sounds like it's happening pretty fast."

"It is! Oh I found out today there's going to be a series premiere party, too. And you _have_ to come. I'm not taking no for an answer."

"Of course I'll be there to support you."

"So what's going on with you?"

"Well I have meetings with my editor for the next couple weeks. There's a bunch of stuff they want to change with my story."

Lucas leaned over and pulled a thread off her top. His fingers brushed against her bare shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Soon you're going to be a big, fancy TV star, I'm going to need to get my book published to keep up with you." Lucas was saying.

"Funny."

"You get that'd what's going to happen to you, don't you?" he said, suddenly serious. "Clubs, tabloids, fans–the whole messed-up Hollywood scene?"

"Hardly," Peyton said. "The show is probably going to get cancelled after the first episode. Seriously, you should see the stuff they film. Nobody id going to want to watch a bunch of random girls getting yelled at by their bosses or gossiping with their friends while doing laundry. It's kind of boring, if you ask me. I'm boring. No one would want to watch me."

"You? Boring? Never."

Peyton stared at him in his shimmering blue eyes. "Wanna go back to my place for dinner?" Lucas asked.

"Yes." She replied.

They had a beautiful dinner, and Peyton stayed the night. They layed down in Lucas bed, and cuddled, talking about sweet nothings, and eventually fell asleep with their fingers entwined and bodies twisted together. It was the best sleep she'd had in weeks.


	10. Spa's and Champagne

**A/N: **So there was one point where I updated a lot in a row, but then school happened. You see I'm in grade 10, and sometimes I'm not that busy, but the homework has just been piling up. Especially with subjects I'm having trouble with, I have a tutor. Then I'm an athlete so I've been busy with my basketball team with tournaments and games. At the same time volleyball tryouts have started so, you can see where I'm coming from. I'm so sorry for taking so long to update. I'm so sorry. But eventually I will make it up to you with some hot, dirty, sexy, sex scene of some sort. You guys know how I roll. Especially Myra, and Natalie, and Arielle. I love you all.

Xoxo Melly :)

**--**

Peyton crept into the house the next morning quietly, hoping that Brooke wouldn't notice she was out all night.

She took one step into the apartment and closed the door. Brooke stood standing before her.

She was wrong.

"What were you doing out all night young lady?" Brooke questioned. "You have a curfew."

"Sorry mom." Peyton replied.

She walked into the house and placed her purse on the kitchen counter.

"So…?" Brooke started.

"So…?"

"What happened last night? Don't leave me hanging. Tell me! Tell me!"

"Nothing."

"Peyton!" Brooke whined. She _needed_ to know _everything. _There were just times when she lived vicariously through Peyton. This was one of them.

"What?"

Brooke gave Peyton a pouted look. She looked like a sad puppy dog.

"Fine," Peyton said. "We went out for drinks, then went back to his place for dinner and–

"Had hot sex?" Brooke finished the sentence for Peyton.

"No! We had dinner then layed down on his bed and started talking and then we fell asleep."

Brooke wasn't buying the story. Not at all.

"I promise." Peyton replied.

Brooke looked at Peyton in the eye.

"Fine, I believe you. But that doesn't mean I don't think you should've had hot, dirty sex."

"Brooke!" Peyton screamed embarrassed.

"Come on, get ready we have that spa day today."

"Ugh, right." Peyton groaned as she walked into her room and got dressed.

--

Peyton stood outside the Venetian Spa. The spa was located on a small, shaded street that broke off of Melrose, amid plush trees, rows of boutiques, and one-man valets. Peyton glanced at her phone. It was a few minutes passed ten. Except for the camera crew, she was the first to arrive. Apparently no one believed in punctuality anymore.

She would have driven over with Brooke, but her friend had to run over to her store to go over something with the construction worker. Apparently they had messed up the lights on her shelf that stood behind the counter mounted on the wall.

It sounded dumb and probably selfish, but she missed their regular old boring lives, before PopTV already.

Speaking of Brooke . . . she came rushing up, her long brown hair flying all over the place.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I've been trying to find parking for, like, twenty minutes." She sounded out of breath. "Where is everybody?"

"No one's here yet." Peyton shrugged.

"Oh, well, let's go in. I'm sure they'll be here in a few minutes."

The front door opened onto the bottom of a winding staircase. They climbed the black carpeted stairs, admiring the long crystal chandelier above. When they reached the top of the stairs, they found themselves in a spacious room, where two women at a large white receptionist's desk checked them inside. One of the guys proceeded to mike the two girls.

Peyton had to admit that the place was beautiful, all the vintage ivory wallpaper and polished oak floors. It wasn't _her_ taste. But it _was_ beautiful. In the center of the room, a circular glass table displayed a single white orchid and an artfully fanned spread of _Vanity Fair, Elle,_ and _Vogue_ magazines. Tall silver vases, with bunches of pink hydrangeas spilling out of them, stood on each side of the square fireplace covered with small opal tiles and filled with shiny black stones. The remaining walls were mirrored, with shelves of boxed products in teal, lavender, and periwinkle packaging. Other than some soft music, it was silent.

Beautiful or not, Peyton didn't want to be there. She wasn't a spa type of girl. And she didn't feel like wasting a few hours–actually the whole day and night–hanging out with Haley and Rachel, with whom she didn't particularly want to become best friends with. She was seriously tempted to persuade Brooke to bail and spend the day at the beach instead. But she knew Brooke would probably stare at her in horror and point to the cameras and shake her head like, "Are you insane, Peyt? They're already here!" Brooke was hyper-obedient when it came to doing whatever the producers or directors or other crew members told her to do. Peyton was just the opposite. It fit with their respective personalities. Still, it made her kind of sad and nostalgic for the days when it was just her and Brooke. Before Julian, Dana, Mitch, Haley, and Rachel and the rest of them ruined everything. She would _never_ take back Lucas. _Never._

_But you wanted to be on this stupid show,_ Peyton reminded herself.

Brooke dropped onto one of the plush couches, seemingly oblivious to Peyton's mixed feelings about being there. Sighing, Peyton followed suit. She saw one of the cameras zooming in on her, so she reached for a copy of _Vanity Fair_ and began flipping pages. That was the sort of thing one did in the reception area of a spa, right? A moment later, she heard the front door open and chatter drifting up the stairwell. She turned to the doorway to see Rachel and Haley coming around the corner.

"Hey, ladies!" Rachel's voice erupted into the quiet room. Haley trailed in behind her, waving.

As the soundman miked them, Rachel smiled at one of the receptionists, who greeted her by name. "Let Anna, know I'm here," Rachel instructed her, then quickly turned back to the girls. Peyton had the same impression of her that she's had on Monday night at TRIC. She still didn't . . . like her. Why had Julian cast her and Haley for this show, anyway?

"Hey, guys!" Brooke cried out. She sounded excited to see them. Peyton didn't say anything.

Peyton felt Brooke elbow her ever so subtly. "Be polite!" Brooke pleaded in her ear.

God! When had Brooke turned into Miss Manners? Peyton gave Rachel and Haley a quick wave, barely glancing up from her magazine.

"Soooo." Rachel sunk onto the couch next to Brooke. "What are you getting done?"

"I played it safe. Facial." Brooke shrugged.

"Oh, they're really good here!" Rachel exclaimed.

"What about you?" Brooke asked.

"I'm getting a Lipocell treatment," Rachel replied.

Brooke cocked her head. "What's that?"

"It's where they–"

"She's getting the cellulite removed from her ass," Haley interrupted.

"Oh, well, sign me up for that one!" Brooke joked.

"Oh, please, nothing could be done you make you ass look better," Rachel replied.

Brooke wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a compliment or an insult.

Peyton _knew._ It was an insult. Definitely. Peyton was good at reading people. And she read Rachel like an open book.

"So what are you getting done?" Haley asked Peyton politely, changing the subject off of Rachel.

Peyton turned her attention back to her article: "Inside the Private World of Miley Cyrus." Oh, yeah, _that_ bitch. Still, it was more interesting than talking to _this_ bitch. Fine, Haley _wasn't_ the bitch. That was Nathan.

"Laser hair removal," she replied, pretending to yawn.

There was a silence. Peyton glanced up In time to see Rachel, and Haley's faces simultaneously twisting into the same horrified expression. Haley let out a little "Ouch!"

"What? I was reading about it online. It's supposed to be a 'noninvasive' and 'comfortable' procedure. Besides, I hate shaving, and waxing." Peyton exclaimed, feeling defensive, then frustrated for feeling defensive.

Long story short, she wanted to look good for Lucas. Not knowing that no matter how she looked, Lucas would think she _was_ gorgeous.

"What are you getting lasered, sweetie, sweetie?" Haley asked, with concern in her voice.

"Bikini."

Haley stared at her for a moment, and then reached into the quilted Chanel clutch next to her. She pulled out a prescription bottle and spilled one long white pill into her palm. She handed it to Peyton.

"What is it?" Peyton asked her concerned. Was Haley a druggie?

"Just take it. You'll thank me later."

"Yes, definitely!" Rachel agreed.

Peyton was wrong about Haley. She _was _a nice girl. She started to wonder how Haley felt when she found out about what Nathan did to her and Peyton. They eventually got over it because they were married now, but Peyton was intrigued. She was willing to be nice to Haley. Give her _a _chance.

Peyton peered suspicious at the pill still. But Haley's reaction to the laser was the first real emotion Peyton had seen register on her face. Peyton opened hr mouth, tossed in the pill, and swallowed.

"So! What are we doing after out beauty treatments?" Brooke asked Rachel. Peyton made a face. Why did _her_ best friend have to act _so_ positive?

"Oh I made plans for us." Rachel smiled mysteriously.

_Great,_ Peyton thought bitterly. _Wonder which will be more painful, the laser or a night out with these two._

"However you guys don't have to come." Rachel added.

"I don't think I'll be able to make it." Peyton said. "Sorry, I have plans with my boyfriend."

--

"Who wants more champagne?" Rachel sang out? "Don't be shy ladies!"

Brooke glanced up from her spot on Rachel's luxurious leather couch, which felt like butter against her skin. She was lying down with her head on some guy's lap. Through the haze of champagne, martini's, and tequila shots, she was vaguely aware of Rachel standing on top of her Italian marble coffee table, waving a gold champagne bottle in the air.

Brooke tried to sit up, willing her drunken brain fog to dissipate. Nearby, Haley was dancing with Nathan, and two other guys to an AC/DC song. She was wearing an oversized man's white button down shirt open over her black sequined dress. Just behind her two cameramen from _One Tree Hill_ were there, filming everything. Brooke wasn't positive, but she though they were the same cameramen that had been with them all day, starting at the spa.

_What time is it?_ Brooke wondered groggily, sitting up a little more. She remembered Rachel saying something about the Penthouse apartment belonging to her parents. What had Dana said about them? That they were fifth generation Gatina's from somewhere on the East Coast who owned fancy cribs like this all over the world, or something like that? Not that Brooke was impressed. The place looked fake, unnatural. As though the décor had been copied straight from an interior design magazine.

The girls had been out all night and Rachel had insisted they all go back to her place, including the handful of guys they had collected throughout the night.

"Where do you live?" the guy cradling Brooke's head asked her.

"What?" Brooke murmured.

"Where . . . do . . . you . . . live?" the guy repeated, kissing her forehead. "I'll give you a ride home."

"Don't leave! We're having fun!" Rachel cut in. "Besides I have spare bedrooms."

Brooke staggered to her feet. She was drunk, but she wasn't _so_ drunk that she wanted to get even more wasted and hook up with some random guy for the _One Tree Hill_ cameras to see. She_ was_ changing.

"Come on, I'll take you home." The guy repeated. Where were her shoes?"

"Oh don't go!" Rachel cried out. She twirled on the coffee table, balancing the drink in one hand and the other champagne bottle in the other.

"Rachel, this music sucks. Don't you have any eighties?" Haley demanded.

Blurry. Everything was blurry. Brooke spotted her shoes underneath the coffee table. Brookes guy trailed behind her. There were goodbyes, and thank-yous between the girls.

Brooke got in the car with the unknown man, and he took her home.

--

The next morning, Peyton woke up to the shrill tone of her cell phone ringing. She glanced groggily at her clock. It was 7:00 a.m. Wait, 7:00 a.m.? She wondered it if was the wrong number.

She managed to pick up her cell phone just before it went to voice mail. "Hello?"

"Hey Peyton, It's Julian. Were you sleeping?"

Peyton rubbed her eyes. Julian? Why was Julian calling her? She hasn't really heard from him since they'd started filming. It was hard to believe that was less than two weeks ago. It feels like so much longer.

"Hey, Julian. Nope, I'm up."

"Good. Listen, I just wanted to let you know what a great job you're doing. I've watched the edits and they're looking amazing. I'm so excited for you guys to see."

"Thanks," Peyton said, rubbing her eyes again and feeling a little funny being complimented on living her life.

"Were you at TRIC last night?" Trevor asked out of the blue.

Peyton frowned. "Um, yeah. Why?" How did he know that?

"Oh, one of my friends said he saw you. That place is great, right? I think I wanna film there again."

"Yeah, it's pretty cool there."

"Who'd you go with?"

"I met my boyfriend there," Peyton said.

"Your boyfriend?" Julian asked. And by the way he said it, Peyton assumed it had been accompanied by an eyebrow raise.

"Yes, Julian . . . my boyfriend," Peyton told him.

"Great. Well, Peyton! Keep up the good work! Dana will be in touch with you very soon, maybe even today. We're sending you an Brooke out to a few magazines to do some publicity for the show. We're also getting the four of you to do a photo shoot for the promo poster. Series premiere's coming up; there's a lot to do."

"Okay."

They said their goodbyes. Peyton shut her phone and set it on the counter next to her. She wondered about Julian's interest in Lucas. He had _tried_ to sound casual about it, but she couldn't help but feel weirded out that he had known where she was the night before. It was like she was being watched even when she wasn't being filmed. The though gave her the chills, but she quickly shook it off. _Stop being so paranoid_, she told herself. She then lay back down in bed, and fell asleep. She dreamt of Lucas till she woke up 3 hours later to get ready for work.


	11. One Word F O U R letters

Peyton pulled into a spot marked RESERVED. It was the only empty space she could find in the recording studio's parking lot. Even though it was the weekend, the place was packed.

She hopped out of her car and walked toward the long gray building. There were several brightly painted doors along its side marked with numbers above each. She looked down at her new BlackBerry and tried to pull up the email that Julian's assistant has sent her. She was still figuring out how to use it. Julian had given a BlackBerry to every girl on the show a couple of days ago, so it would be easier for Dana to get a hold of them and send them their schedules.

"Building One," Peyton read aloud, finally finding the email.

She made her way toward the door with the large blue number one painted above it and headed inside. At the end of a long hallway, she found the door marked SOUNDBOX STUDIOS and went in.

"Can I help you?" A young girl with long black hair smiled at Peyton from behind a cluttered desk.

"Hi. I'm supposed to be meeting Dana from PopTV." Peyton looked around, hoping she was in the right place.

"Studio three," the girl said, pointing at the door to Peyton's left. "I think she's already in there."

"Thanks."

Peyton slipped inside and found herself in a dimly lit room. Dana was sitting on a red couch and talking to a tall bald man. In one corner of the room was a big-screen TV, which was currently turned off. Across from that, there was a control board lit up with hundreds of buttons, switches, and dials next to a large glass window through which Peyton could see another, smaller room encased with black padding. In the center of the smaller room was a wooden bar stool and a round mike hanging from a black stand.

"Hey, Peyton," Dana said as Peyton came in.

Dana looked even more stressed and exhausted than usual–if that was possible. The woman seriously needed to check into a spa, for like a month. She wore a blue sweatshirt over jeans, and she had on no makeup. Julian had mentioned that all the producers had been editing until 2 or 3 a.m. every morning, trying to get the show ready for the premiere, which was now just two weeks away. Two weeks! Peyton could hardly believe it. Brooke had already reminded her that they had to go shopping for something cute to wear to the party, which was going to be at TRIC.

"Hi. Sorry I'm late. I couldn't find the building," Peyton apologized.

"Peyton, this is Shawn. He's gonna be running the session."

Peyton shook the bald guy's hand. He had big, friendly brown eyes and a toothy smile.

"Here." Dana handed Peyton a sheet of paper. Peyton scanned it quickly.

**PEYTON'S V.O.S.**

**My name is Peyton. I just moved to L.A. with my best friend, Brooke. I intern for one of the biggest labels in the world. So far it's been (pause) a learning experience.**

**Brooke just started maker her dream a reality. Having her own clothing line called Clothes Over Bros. The only thing hotter than her clothes is her.**

**Rachel is working as a model for the company Ruby Slipper. She's finding out fast that she isn't in Kansas anymore.**

**That's Haley. She's a singer, and is hoping to get signed by a major label. Maybe I can help her with that.**

**We all moved to L.A. this summer from Tree Hill, North Carolina. Some of us to work . . . and some of us to play. So let the games begin.**

Peyton laughed a little as she read through each line.

"'The only thing hotter than her clothes is her'? Seriously who wrote this?"

Dana didn't look amused. "Me."

_Awkward,_ though Peyton as she quickly tried to back track. She saw Shawn trying not to smile at her comment.

"No, it's funny. I like it." Peyton smiled, attempting to hide her embarrassment.

"We're running a little behind. Why don't you hop in there?" Dana said, motioning to the smaller room on the other side of the large glass window. She was all business again, so maybe Peyton's comment didn't faze her. Or maybe she'd get her revenge in the editing room. "Take the script with you, okay?"

"Kay."

Peyton followed Shawn back out the door and into a smaller room. She climbed onto the stool as Shawn started plugging and unplugging different wires from the wall. He stood up and handed her a set of headphones. Then he left the room, closing the door tightly behind him. Peyton could hear herself breathing through the headphones.

"Can you hear us?" Shawn's voice echoed loudly.

"Yeah," Peyton replied an then jumped at the amplified sound of her own voice. It was weird.

"Okay, then." Shawn made a few adjustments to the control board. "Let's start with your first line." He pointed at her, signaling for her to begin.

Peyton looked down at the script and began to read. "My name is Peyton. I just moved to L.A. with my best friend, Brooke. I intern–"

"Peyton?" Dana's voice interrupted her.

Peyton looked up from the script. She could see Dana through the window. "Yeah?"

"Can you read it a little more . . . " Dana tilted her head to the side like she was searching for a word. "It's sounding a little flat. Try reading it like you're telling a story."

"Okay." Peyton said, confused. In fact, she didn't really understand what she was reading, much less why she needed to read it like she was "telling a story." What was this for? All Julian's assistant had said in her email was that Peyton should show up at this studio and that she didn't need to dress up since there wouldn't be any cameras. When she's asked Brooke what it was about, she found out Brooke hadn't been invited. Peyton had been surprised, since they had done the four interviews_ together_ last week, and she, Brooke, Haley, and Rachel were scheduled to do a photo shoot _together_ tomorrow, for the promo poster. Why was Peyton being asked to do this–whatever this was–without Brooke or the other girls?

"I'm sorry, Dana. I don't really get what you're asking me to do. You want me to read these lines like they are a story?"

"Like you're narrating. This goes at the very beginning of the first episode. You're basically introducing all the girls. Didn't Julian explain this to you?"

"No, his assistant told me to show up here and ask for you."

Dana exhaled loudly, sounding frustrated. "Okay, Julian was supposed to explain. At the beginning of every episode we need a quick recap of the previous week. Instead of having an actor come in to do the voiceovers, Julian wanted to have one of you girls do it."

"Wait, I'm doing this for _every_ episode?" Peyton asked.

"Yeah. Apparently you're the most relatable. They tested the pilot with several groups."

"Groups?"

"Focus groups. We showed them a rough cut of the pilot to s bunch of people in our demographic to het their feedback. According to them, you're relatable."

"Brooke's relatable."

"To_ you_, Peyton. Not to middle America."

"Really?" Peyton sounded puzzled. "What about Rachel."

"Peyton. No one thought _that_ girl was relatable."

Peyton laughed. It was true. There weren't many people like Rachel. "Well, Haley's, relatable."

"Haley's wonderful. She's sweet, smart, and really pretty. But they want you, _not_ Haley.

Peyton tried to process what Dana was telling her. Did this mean the story was being told from _her_ point of view? Or was she just narrating what had happened to everyone? And why hadn't Julian talked to her about this before she came in here today?

"So do you understand, Peyton?" Dana asked her.

"I think so," Peyton said, adjusting her headphones as she began to read again. "My name is Peyton . . . "

--

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Peyton stopped and studied Lucas' face. He was staring at her with an expression she couldn't read.

"Sorry. It's just that you're so beautiful."

"I am _not._" She blushed. Something as small, and _as _sweet as that could make her heart race. But only coming from him, no one else. _No one else._

"You are. You know I'm kinda crazy about you, don't you?"

"Hmmm . . . or maybe you're just crazy, period." Peyton teased.

Lucas reached for her and kissed her again. _I'm kinda crazy about you too,_ Peyton thought as they kissed. His lips felt so soft against hers.

"I'm kind of crazy about you too,"she whispered in his ear. "Happy Birthday."

--

"I'm nervous," Peyton whispered to Brooke as they headed into TRIC. One of the _One Tree Hill_ cameramen was at the door, filming the entrance.

Brooke looked her up and down. "Why? You look so hot in that dress, Lucas' won't be able to keep his eyes, or hands off you."

"It's just that whenever I'm around him my heart can't stop racing, and I'm—"

"Happy?" Brooke finished her thought for her.

"Yeah."

"Well sweetie that's cause you're in love."

"I know but what if he doesn't feel the same way. Not to mention that we're totally late. _And_ it's his birthday. He's going to think I forgot about his party or something."

Brooke placed her hands on Peyton's shoulders.

"Look, that boy is crazy about you. I can see it, he is most definitely in love with you. And don't freak out, believe me that fuck me dress will do you and him glory tonight."

"Brooke!" Peyton yelled embarrassed.

"What? You know it's true." She said. "But Peyton."

"Yeah?"

"Just try to be happy, because you deserve to be. Everything's falling into place."

"Thanks B. Davis." she hugged her friend tightly. Brooke was pretty much Peyton's sister. They got through everything together, and her opinion meant a lot to Peyton. What she said mattered, and when she approved it made everythingperfect. Brooke knew Lucas was the _one _for Peyton. In the end she was glad Peyton she let him in, but if he broke her heart, it would be Brooke's fist in his face.

"Peyton!" Lucas called out, waving. Het sat at a table covered with piles of presents and colourful cocktails. To set lights hung overhead. Several _One Tree Hill _cameras were already there, shooting.

Lucas quickly stood up, his eyes looking over Peyton's every curve. She _was_ gorgeous. He has _never_ seen anyone more beautiful than her in his entire life. Her curly blonde hair resting on her shoulders, and her face lighting up at the sight of him. _Her boyfriend._ And that dress she wore. Was the most amazing thing he's seen in his entire life. We'll it was a Brooke Davis, clothes over bros original, but that's besides the point.

Peyton wore a simple black dress. But it her justice. Her legs seemed to extend on _forever_, and he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Stop undressing him with your eyes." Brooke whispered into Peyton's ear.

"I'm doing no such thing!" she defended herself.

"Yes you are, and he's totally doing the same to you. I can't believe you two haven't had sex yet."

"Shut up! And you _better_ behave tonight."

"I'll try."

--

Peyton and Brooke were only 20 minutes late. Peyton walked up to Lucas and kissed him on the cheek seductively. Clearly trying to tease him.

"Happy Birthday." She whispered into his ear.

He pulled her into a hug. "Thanks, for coming."

"Why would I miss it?"

"Well I thought you might be with your other boyfriend." He joked.

"I only have one boyfriend, and he's _you_." She kissed him on the lips.

--

The party went by pretty fast. It was all a big blurr. People came, people drank, people partied, people left. That's what happened.

Lucas and Peyton were the last to leave. _Of course._ They went back to his place. Since Brooke wouldn't be there.

"So I still haven't given you my present yet." Peyton said.

"You didn't have to get me anything."

"But I did. Here, open it." She handed him a wrapped present. Inside was a framed picture of them inside. The picture was from one of those cheesy photo booths (she and Lucas had gone into one after seeing a movie together). The photo–four photos, actually–was a skinny strip of goofy black-and-whites: Peyton and Lucas smiling; Peyton and Lucas laughing; Peyton and Lucas kissing; and Peyton and Lucas kissing some more holding up their palms, as to shield themselves from the paparazzi. The photos were so . . . _them._

Peyton has framed the strip herself, wrapped the whole thing in pretty wrapping paper, and kept it in her purse to give to him when they were _alone._

It was her silly-shy-totally-awkward-Peyton way of telling him how she felt about him. Because she was–or at least, she_ had_ been sure he felt the same way about her.

"I know this may, be a little soon, but I love you Lucas." She stated. She _needed_ to know if he felt the same way.

"I love you too." _He did._

He wrapped his arms, around her as he kissed her on lips._ Again._


	12. With You Forever

**Three Weeks Later**

Lucas lay on Peyton's bed with a novel in his hands, as Peyton lay beside him reading an email from Julian. It would've been so much easier for her to finish reading this super long email if Lucas wasn't distracting her. However she couldn't tell him to stop, because he wasn't doing anything intentionally. Like whenever he laughed at something in his book it made her smile and stare at him loosing all her focus for just a few minutes.

"I want you to meet my mom," he stated taking Peyton by surprise.

"Really?" she questioned. However she wasn't really surprised they were starting to get pretty serious.

"Yeah, she owns this little café in Wilmington, and I think she'd really like you."

"Don't say that. She'll probably hate me."

"Now that's not possible. How could someone hate you Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer? You're amazing!"

Peyton blushed for a mere second before looking into his deep blue eyes. "Kiss me." She commanded. Tugging at his shirt pulling him closer.

"I'll kiss you whenever you want." he said far too seductively if you asked her. She really wanted him naked in her bed right now. He couldn't be saying things like that.

But he did and so in return she kissed him. She moved so that she was now laying on top, grabbed the book from his hands and threw it somewhere on the floor. Her lips were on his quickly.

Lucas gazed into Peyton's eyes as she unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it away from his shoulders. Her hands found the hem of her own shirt and raised it over her head, tossing it onto the floor.

"Are you sure?" He asked. He already knew the answer, but he had to ask anyway.

She nodded her head, and smiled in the way thinking _seriously I can't believe your asking._

His gaze never left hers as his hand caressed the satin cups of Peyton's bra, and she whimpered as his warm hands reached around to unhook the clasp. His neck was so close to her lips in that moment that she couldn't resist running her tongue along the side of it. Lucas hissed softly as her bra fell onto the blanket. His hands wrapped around her back as he pulled her against his bare chest, and the contact was electric. He leaned away and let his hands softly cup her breasts. Peyton moaned as his fingers slowly traced her nipples, and she arched into his hand. She hurriedly tried to unzip the button of his jeans, desperate to have no barriers between them. But Lucas took her hand and softly kissed each of Peyton's fingertips.

Carefully, he pushed her back onto the bed and ran his hands along her denim-covered thighs. Her legs automatically opened to him, and she waited impatiently as he slowly unbuttoned her jeans, pulling them down her legs and tossing them into the growing pile on the floor. She sighed as his hands massaged her feet before making a trail up her legs. Lucas' hands finally came to rest along Peyton's stomach, and his eyes never left her face and his fingers traced the outline of her panties. Peyton smiled in encouragement, and they too joined the heap on the floor. His eyes finally left her face to gaze at her body. It was the first time he's ever seen her completely naked, and instead of feeling bashful or embarrassed, she felt nothing but worshipped and adored.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered in wonder as his fingers softly traced her skin. Peyton moaned softly as his hand caressed her stomach. He continued kissing along her thigh and down to her knee. His fingers and lips traveled along every inch of her body. The combination of his warm kisses and the slightly chilled air of the bedroom were causing goose bumps on her flesh. It was also causing a slightly painful pressure in Peyton's core that was aching to be touched. But he avoided that area during his journey, and she was positive he was doing it on purpose. Lucas blew hot air onto her stomach, and she arched off the bed with a loud moan.

Lucas groaned and led Peyton's hand to the button of his jeans. Hoping to tease him just a little, her hand brushed against his zipper. He moaned loudly and thrust against her hand. Peyton's hand wrapped around his obvious arousal, and she trailed her fingers along the denim. His voice whimpered as his lips crashed onto hers. Feeling brave, Peyton pushed Lucas against the mattress and fumbled with the button and the zipper of his jeans.

With a smile, Peyton tugged Lucas' jeans down his legs and threw them to the floor. I kissed my way up his muscular legs and onto his thighs. She leaned back and took a moment to take him in. His eyes gazed up at Peyton as she admired the most beautiful man she's ever seen. Peyton climbed in between his legs, running her fingers along the length of him, wondering if he would love the feel of her hands on him. His sharp breath as her fingers curled around him letting her know that he did.

"Peyton…" he whimpered, and she was trilled to hear that he was a little breathless.

"Shh…" she murmured. "Let me do this."

Lucas closed his eyes with a soft moan as Peyton ran her fingers along his shaft. He arched against her hand and suddenly she knew that her fingers weren't enough. She lowered her head over his cock and blew a trail of warm air along the length of his penis. He groaned her name as she slipped him inside her mouth.

His hands rested on the back of her head as she moved her mouth in rhythm with his thrusts. Within minutes, he was groaning loudly, and before Peyton could register what was happening, she was on her back with him nestled between her legs.

Peyton shivered as Lucas hand finally made its way to the one place he'd yet to touch. She arched against his hand, begging him for more, as he softly traced her core with the tip of his finger. He brought his lips to hers as his finger found Peyton's clit, and he swallowed her moan with a passionate kiss. He abruptly stopped moving his finger against her, and she would've cried if she didn't see his body climb above her. Peyton could feel his cock slowly tracing the outline of her opening, and she spread her legs instinctually. He entered her slowly, leaning down to kiss every inch of her face as she adjusted to accommodate him.

"You feel so good. "You're so tight," he whispered against her lips.

"It's been a while," she panted breathlessly, urging him deeper as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He groaned as the motion forced him to completely enter her, and their moans of pleasure echoed off the bedroom walls. And with those moans, they became unhinged.

Lucas thrust inside Peyton, whispering her name over and over as she wrapped her arms around his neck and met him thrust for thrust. The only sounds in the room were their moans and the sound of our skin sliding against each other. Fire flooded Peyton's veins as she allowed herself, for the very first time, to feel completely and utterly loved and adored.

"I can't fucking _breathe_ without you," Lucas whispered urgently as his lips lingered on her throat. Their movements became frantic. There bodies fitting together perfectly, like a puzzle. "I can't _live_ without you."

"And you'll _never_ have to," Peyton murmured, letting her fingers flow through his tousled hair as their thrusts became frenzied. She felt the muscles in her stomach tighten, and she knew this was going to end way too soon. They were both just too eager. They'd wanted each other for so long. They'd talked about this for so long, and it was _perfect_. There however was no way they were taking their time. Not this time. They'd have plenty of time for that later.

As if he could tell she was holding back, wanting to desperately to hang on to this moment, Lucas whispered in Peyton's ear how much he loved her. How many times he's fantasized about this very night. How good she felt pressed against his body. How fucking good it felt to finally be inside of her. How much he wanted to hear her scream his name when she came. Peyton whimpered against his lips, begging him to come with her. Moaning how good he felt so deep inside of her. He pressed his forehead to hers, and then he said the words that would be her undoing.

"One day I'm going to marry you." _But she already knew that._

Lights flashed behind her closed eyes as she came violently, screaming his name and grabbing onto his back, digging her nails into his glistening, bare skin. He grunted one last time and spilled inside of her, moaning her name reverently as they clung to each other while they rode out their orgasm. Our motions slowed as he began pressing kissed to every inch of her face. Exhausted, they both moaned when her pulled out of her. Lucas lay down beside her, cradling her head against his chest. Peyton wrapped her arms around his waist and cuddled against him.

Still a little breathless, he was the first to speak. Sort of.

"Fuck… that was just…wow… I mean…," he sighed as he tried to formulate and appropriate description.

"I know," She whispered in agreement. "I know."

--

Rachel surveyed the enormous room inside Stage 5 of the PopTV studios. Half of the space was entirely white, and the corners were rounded so that the walls flowed seamlessly into the floors. The far end was filled with couches, makeup stations, and racks of clothing on one side, a table topped with boxes of hot Starbucks coffee, assorted food–and a lot of people–on the other. She sipped her coffee, making sure not to mar her perfectly applied makeup. Nothing was going to ruin this day for her. She was even wearing a terry cloth robe over her outfit, in case of accidental spills. Not that Rachel was prone to accidents. She never made mistakes and never left anything to chance.

Today was the photo shoot for _One Tree Hill_ ad. The place was a beehive of activity as people set up, their voices echoing weirdly in the massive space mixing with the eighties music blaring from somebody's iPod.

Rachel spotted Dana dodging a clothing rack as she headed in the direction of the hair and makeup area. Dropping her half-full coffee cup into a trash can, Rachel followed Dana to see what was going on. Mostly she was curious to see how the other girls looked. Inside Dana was talking to Peyton and Brooke, who seemed to have arrived just a few minutes ago. (Rachel had arrived early of course.) The makeup girl was done up in jet-black eye shadow, as full set of false lashes, and hot pink lipstick–at the crack of dawn, no less–which made Rachel feel doubly smug about having had her makeup done by her own person, in advance.

Each station had its own rectangular mirror framed with bright, round lights, and each had a vast assortment of products (eye shadows, liners, lip glosses, blushes, and bronzers in every possible colour).

"Hi, Rachel!" Brooke called out in a tired but friendly voice. "Your hair and makeup look great."

"Thanks!"

"Where's Haley?" Brooke asked.

"Running late," Rachel replied.

"Late? How late? I've left her three messages," Dana snapped, glancing at her watch. With the _One Tree Hill_ premiere just a 1 week away, she had been even more tense and cranky than usual.

"She'll be here," Rachel replied. "She texted me like five minutes ago. There was traffic. Hi, Peyton."

Peyton nodded but didn't say hi back. "Whose idea was it to have a six a.m. call time?" Peyton complained to no one in particular.

"Mine. Peyton, this is Sarah. She'll be doing your makeup," Dana said, pointing to the woman in the hot pink lipstick. "Laura'll be here any minute. She'll be doing yours, Brooke." She listened to someone on her headpiece. "Uh-huh. Oh, jeez. Back in a sec, girls," she said, hurrying out of the room.

Peyton glanced warily at Sarah. "I don't like to wear a lot of makeup."

"Don't worry, honey, I'll make sure you look beautiful," Sarah reassured her.

"Yeah, well. Think of the lightest possible makeup you can do. Then do it even lighter than that," Peyton said testily. _Yeah, good plan,_ Rachel though. _Offend the woman who's about to do you face._ Although, in this case, Peyton was right to be cautious. On the other hand . . . if Sarah made Peyton look like a freak, then all the better for Rachel. Brooke and Haley were cute, but they weren't exactly turning heads. But Peyton was stunning. Of the three girls, she was the one who rivaled Rachel in the looks department.

--

"Were all going to be sitting on one hill under a tree. _One Tree Hill,_ get it? Julian told me about it last week." Brooke said.

"So cute!" Haley said.

Peyton rolled her eyes.

"We're all wearing these, skinny jeans, and American Apparel v-necks in different colours." Brooke continued.

--

"So what are you wearing to the series premiere?" Haley asked Rachel.

"I'm not sure . . . Haley, let me focus, okay?"

"Focus on what?

"On the photo shoot."

Haley frowned. "What's there to focus on? They're just gonna take out pictures, right?"

Rachel waved her hand dismissively, not wanting to talk anymore. Of course she had to focus. She had to focus on making sure she was photographed in the most flattering possible light and angle, more than the other three, to ensure that she was the obvious star of _One Tree Hill._ The show didn't actually _have_ a star. It was supposed to be about the four girls equally. But a certain dynamic in a promo poster or an ad could convey so much. It was crucial that Rachel did what she could to help that dynamic.

The photographer, Quinn James, was Haley's sister. She pointed to Peyton and said, "Peyton? Were going to have to sit in the tree okay? Brooke were going to have you hanging from the branch."

"Where do you want me?" Rachel called out pleasantly.

"Rachel, Haley . . . I want you to sit on the ground under the tree, wherever."

Rachel complied, and a moment later, Quinn began clicking away. This was not a pose _she_ would have chosen. But there were probably just test shots. There was still time for Rachel to jockey for a better spot.

… To Be Continued.


	13. AN

I know how you feel at this exact moment. I hate coming to read a new chapter and see and announcement instead, but I have to do this.

So I forgot my password to this account a while a go, so well I haven't updated. Mostly i've just been really busy and uninspired.

I'd like to take this time to get you guys to check out stories by **Maygen_Lauren** and **Sweet Silver Lining**. They are absolutely amazing writers and while i'm not around at least you can enjoy them.

Hopefully I will be back one day, but until then, please add those authors to your author alert, and read there stories and favourite author them. I LOVE those girls!.

Sorry to all of my followers and dedicated readers. You're really amazing. But I will be back someday, just not until after exams for sure.

Love, Melly


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